Repercussions
by Nodoka Miyazawa
Summary: Time passes, but some things don't change. What happens when the repercussions of actions come to light?
1. Chapter 1

Hi there!

This is 'Nodoka' calling – yes, the pen name is a tribute to a certain character from another work by Mr. Akamatsu, which has me utterly hooked.

I've decided that I should give a LH fanfiction a go, having read numerous good ones on this site before now many times before. I am a little new to this and have no beta reader, so any feedback, comments or corrections are much appreciated.

This is going to be a Kei x ? story, but I plan on giving all the characters a fair share of screen time. Although romance will be a strong factor, it will be alongside other plots.

The story kicks off about 6 months after the end of the manga, prior to the marriage chapter set years later – at the start of 2002. Making Keitaro & Mitsune 22, Naru 20, Shinobu 16 etc.

Disclaimer: Love Hina and the characters within are the creation of Ken Akamatsu, and are the property of their respective rights holders. This piece of fiction is written purely for enjoyment, not for any profit.

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Chapter One.

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It was early January I think. When I noticed things weren't quite...right.

With our resident kanrinin, I mean.

He and Naru had been together for, oh, must have been six months? Give or take a month or two.

Well, it's not as if things had ever been 'right' right. Even after they became an item. Seems words and actions don't always match up, at least from Naru's point of view.

The status was officially 'girlfriend' and 'boyfriend', but I doubted things had actually changed that much.

I'm damn sure he wasn't gettin' any, at least.

Anyhow, I think things really came to a head a few days ago. When a certain member of the household found out something none of us knew about. Two things in fact.

Which suddenly cast actions in a whole new light. And their repercussions.

And certainly caused one big ruckus.

But that's for later. Right now, I think the scene needs setting.

Hmmmm. I think the first week of January is a good place to start...

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It was Friday morning. Which meant only one thing for the resident Manager, ex-ronin and general dogsbody of Hinata Sou.

Spring cleaning.

Well, springs cleaning to be precise.

Logic defined this to be the best time. Two of the regular customers to the springs would be in Tokyo-U, three others at various schools or otherwise studying. The last one... well, possibly drinking sake, possibly betting on horses. Or possibly drinking sake while betting on horses.

Besides, even if she did arrive in the springs, ignoring the huge, brightly-painted 'MAN PRESENT' sign stuck on the outer door, it was never her that produced the physical punishment.

Although she did often manage to swindle a deduction on the rent.

The brown-haired man sighed and took his glasses off, swiping a sleeveless arm across his brow. Even on a crisp, bright day in January, scrubbing stones and wooden boards by hand while waist deep in hot water wasn't cool work.

But it had to be done. He'd be reminded very quickly if it wasn't.

At least the option of using Friday mornings made things a little easier. Keitaro breathed a thank-you under his breath to his tutor and mentor, Seta, before resuming his scrubbing.

The old choice between not cleaning and cleaning during the evenings was painful either way.

Stepping into the hot spring pervert.

Not entering on pain of death lazy pervert.

Either way, altitude sickness.

Seta, the laid back loafer he was, decided that nothing happened on Fridays (at least when he was in charge) and so allowed his 'part timer' a day where he could do his duties without getting sliced, smote or swindled.

Okay, Kitsune was still in residence, so maybe swindled. But understandably, the inability to summon screaming death at a moment's notice weakened her hand.

Speaking of whom...

"Kei-kuuuuuun..." The kanrinins' head whipped up as a young lady slipped through the door, wearing only a towel and a sly grin.

"Uh, hi Kitsune." Thanking the stars he had taken his glasses off - steam, after all, doesn't go well with glass - Keitaro took a step back from the door and quickly turned the other way. Even with fuzzy vision, it was clear Mitsune's towel was nowhere near as big as her smile. And the young ex-ronin preferred his blood in his body, not pouring from his nostrils.

"Don't like what you see?" The fox mock-pouted, easily sliding down into the hot water. "Awwww, I'm disappointed. I was gonna offer you a closer look. Offer's still there if you wanna take it." The grin increased from sly to downright sultry as the predator slid towards her prey, watching him stutter impotently.

"Uh, Kitsune-san, uhm...d-didn't you see the sign? I thought I put it out..." The silver-haired girl resisted a snicker as the shoulders she approached began to shake.

"Yeah, nice sign too." The girl couldn't resist a chuckle as the shaking shoulders froze when her lithe arms draped over them. This was too much fun! "Don't remember it saying 'no entry' though." A silent sigh slipped from the kanrinin's mouth, and he gave in without resistance.

"All right, you got me. What do you want?" The resident party animal paused for a second, perhaps a little surprised by the fast submission. But she shrugged it off. After all, mission still accomplished.

"Ohhhhh nothing. Well, except a few Yen, I've got a hot tip for this afternoon, and I'm kinda strapped for cash." To seal the deal, the young lady pushed what assets she had - and ample assets they were too - against the back of the man she was draped over, and could almost feel the blush develop across his cheeks.

The slight blush that flowered on her own face was obviously due to the morning's sake, nothing more. Obviously.

"Okay. Second coffee pot on the top shelf. Only take half, the rest is for the water bill." Strangely disappointed by the rapid capitulation, the fox-girl paused in puzzlement for a second before releasing her prisoner, and working a smirk back onto her face.

"Ta Kei-kun, will pay you back this month, promise!" The young man didn't reply, stiffly staring at the wall of the springs, cloth still gripped in a tight fist until he heard the slide door open, and shut. And then after a few minutes, the noise repeating as Mitsune actually left, before minutely nodding.

Then, as if the last few minutes didn't happen, he began cleaning the exact same portion of stone with slightly more vigour. After a minute more the surface was gleaming, and he moved onto his next target, while quietly murmuring under his breath.

"Thursdays, maybe. She's never up before noon on Thursdays..."

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"Come on. Come ON!"

Shinobu was not deaf, she knew this for a fact.

"COME ON! You filthy $& NAG!!!"

But in her opinion, it didn't matter when one of her house mates was close to a winner. Because even the deaf -

"YEEEESSSSS! You BEAUTY!!!! Woooo-Hooooooo!"

- Would know quite easily if Mitsune had just won on the ponies. Deciding to shut the door so she wouldn't get a headache, the home-maker of the Hinata Sou set to work preparing the vegetables for dinner. She had decided to give vegetable stew a try, as her 'Sempai' had voiced his love of the meal two weeks ago at lunch.

Of course, to make it before now would have been a bit too, well, obvious? Deliberate? The way the young girl saw it, the older she was when she plucked up the courage to make a move for her Sempai, the better. So no need to push things too hard yet, better to pretend otherwise. Besides, the way things were right now...

"No, Naru-chan! I didn't mean it like that!"

"Then how did you mean it? Baka!" ...there was all the time in the world. As the echoes of splintering woodwork died away, Shinobu picked up her knife and went right back to chopping carrots. The repeated scenario had not changed, really. Even after the two had proclaimed their feelings for one another, the status quo was just that. The only real difference was the two patched things over more quickly after each incident.

Or in Shinobu's mind, Naru accepted Keitaro's timid apologies a bit faster than she used to.

All the same, every time the same plot played out the violet-eyed girl felt a little twinge within her that she knew was more than just a reaction to another injury to her beloved Sempai. One that didn't ease off so readily when the immortal landlord appeared again right as rain.

"Honestly, that idiot, what does he mean I'm growing? If he's saying I'm fat..." The brown-haired girl stormed into the kitchen muttering furiously under her breath.

Shinobu ignored her.

"If he is, he's going to be looking at his own tonsils after I stuff his head where the sun don't shine..." The diminutive cook accepted that her Sempai wasn't utterly blameless every time something happened.

That didn't stop her from wanting to slap Naru Narusegawa, and at times Motoko purple every time one of the two laid a fist on her hopefully beloved-to-be. Every time she saw Keitaro receiving a blow from one of the two she almost felt it herself, and the twinge grew a little more painful. But at the same time there was an odd ambivalence.

Perhaps it was the thought that each fight put the two back to where they began.

Which kept her slim hopes alive.

"Shinobu-chan? Hello?" Shaken out of dreams by a tap on the shoulder, Shinobu turned to see Naru sipping from a glass of water, eyeing her with curiosity from behind bottle-bottom glasses.

"Oh, Naru-san! Sorry, didn't see you there. In my own world." For some reason, the young girl was unable to hold onto any genuine anger when face to face with Naru.

"You okay?" The younger girl nodded in reply, going back to slicing her vegetables.

"Vegetable stew for tonight. Just getting the ingredients ready."

"Need a hand?" Shinobu glanced up at Naru, seeing the taller girl smile as she set the now empty glass down on the drying rack.

"That would be great. Could you wash and peel the potatoes? Once they're ready, I can throw the whole thing together." Naru turned on the tap in response, and started her allotted task without another word, allowing the chef to return to her thoughts.

I was fuming when she came in here. Now I'm making dinner with her. Odd. As youthful but experienced hands went back to work, Shinobu allowed herself to be swept back up into the dance of cooking. Each and every move intended to make her Sempai's dinner extra special.

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"Sweet. Best win I've had in ages!" Mitsune cheered while skipping down the endless steps at the front of the Hinata Sou, precious ticket clutched tight in her hand.

"A win, hmmmm?" The celebration ceased abruptly.

"Ah, uh, ehehehe. Yeah, decided to have a rare flutter, y'know." Mitsune scratched her head nervously, a tiny bead of sweat sliding down her temple.

For a moment, the only sound was the chirping of the watching birds.

"Well, I'll let you off this time, since you won." Haruka took her ever-present cigarette from her lips, lazily blowing out smoke.

"Oh, right. Um, yeah. Gotta go!" A stiff hand halted the fox-girl's charge.

"However, I am not my soft-hearted nephew. You miss another month of rent, well, you know what will happen." Again, only the chirping of birds.

"Sure, sure. It was only one damn bet." The tone was hard, but Haruka knew that the younger woman was nervous.

"Yeah. One bet. Now I want to see the money back in that coffee jar, with interest. Right? Oh, and I want you to buy something nice with it too, not just sake." With that Haruka was off, leaving only a cloud of smoke behind.

"Damn killjoy." Muttered Mitsune, once she was sure that the older woman was out of earshot. The young gambler continued down the stairs, all traces of good mood gone. How the hell does she know these things?

"I am guessing you have picked a winning horse for once. Yet the glum expression….."

"Oh, Motoko-san!" Startled out of her funk, Kitsune clutched her chest as she tried to regain her breath.

"Yes, it is indeed me." Came the reply, with a touch of amusement.

"Don't scare me like that!"

"I merely asked a question."

"Well let me know you're there next time." Composed, Kitsune looked the swords woman in the eye. "Late home aren't ya?"

"Yes. I was putting in some extra study, the entrance exams are not too distant now."

"Starting to emulate our favourite ex-ronin, hmmmmm?" Motoko coloured slightly, trying to ignore Mitsune's raised eyebrow.

"While I do respect his determination and his achievements, I would rather not assume all facets of his personality. Speaking of which, I think I saw him flying towards the tea house a few moments ago, may I enquire why?"

"Not really sure. Naru seemed a little pissed though."

"Hmmmm." Motoko scratched her chin in thought. "I may enquire this evening as to the nature of this particular perversion." She adopted a formal stance, dark eyes narrowing into what could only be described as a glare.

Kitsune couldn't help but wince silently at the thought. 'Ouch. Poor guy won't have time to put his jaw in place before it's back out again. Good thing he's nigh-on indestructible. Besides a palm-print, never a mark on him.'

"Well, just be sure to know both sides of the story, 'kay?" Mitsune chided, feeling a twinge of concern for her manager.

"Oh, I'm sure one side will suffice." Murmured the black-haired girl, hand gently resting on the hilt of her katana, essentially confirming the party-loving girl's fears. This was only likely to end one way, and that way was an odds-on certainty. Mitsune would certainly put money on that bet.

"Anyway, I've gotta put this on the bookie's desk before closing or Haruka will have my hands surgically removed." A new voice broke the silence, startling the birds into flight.

"Naru suggested I should have that done. Oh, and my head while they're at it." Mitsune's head spun around to see Keitaro slowly ascending the steps.

"Oh, Kei-kun. Enjoy the trip?"

"Yeah. Grabbing his jaw the part-timer wrenched his neck, an unpleasant cricking sound accompanying it, causing his audience to cringe.

"Sheez boy, you need to see a chiropractor about that."

"Ah, it's nothing. Just gets a bit stiff if I don't do that every so often." Came the reply, accompanied by a sheepish grin.

"Do it anyway. I still say it ain't natural."

"Maybe. So…." Gesturing with his arms, Keitaro asked why Kitsune was standing alone on the stairs. She was about to reply that she was with Motoko, when she noticed Motoko was very much not there any more.

"Damn. And she wonders why she scares me sometimes." Muttered Mitsune, before feeling a thought spring to mind. "Hey Keitaro, why were you stood in the hot spring fully clothed? Wouldn't it make more sense to strip off?"

"Yeah it would. But I get enough trouble if I'm in there dressed. What happens when someone - _Naru_ whispered the silence – walks in on me like that?"

"Yeah. Guess so." Just as something in Mitsune's mind began to wave it's arms, she cast a glance at her watch. "Shi—oh crap! I'm gonna be late! Gotta go!"

"See you later!" The words were almost outrun by the young lady as she descended the rest of the steps at around the speed of sound.

"Guess Aunt Haruka ran into her after all." Mused Keitaro as he began climbing the steps, anticipating the dinner which Shinobu would no doubt be crafting at that very minute. 'Good thing I gave her the heads-up, I wouldn't know how to tell Kitsune off myself…..'

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At the foot of the stairs, Mitsune paused to catch her breath, while something still nagged in the back of her mind.

'Why is it that I feel like I missed something? Not that the answer wasn't right…..'

She looked down at the now well scrunched ticket in her hand, before sighing gently.

'But that the question was wrong?'

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Dinner was a cheerful affair. The permanent addition of Mutsumi to the usual faces had only served to increase the volume. The part-time resident had had a fainting spell a few weeks before at an inopportune moment, namely whilst cooking dinner. Thanks to alert neighbours the Okinawan had survived without ill effects, although the same could not be said of her home.

Which was no longer a building of any description.

In which case, Mutsumi threw herself on the mercy of Keitaro, who had responded in exactly the way anyone would expect him to.

And so, the number around the table was six. All female.

"Where's Keitaro?" Asked Naru, mouth half-full of stew.

"Sempai said he was feeling a little under the weather, I took his food up to him." Shinobu replied, dipping some bread into her own bowl, cheered by the fact that Keitaro had still wanted her delicious dinner.

"Ara, I hope Kei-kun is okay." Murmured Mutsumi, sipping gingerly from her spoon.

"Well if he will insist on going in the springs fully dressed, not surprised he's gotten ill." Mitsune chuckled.

"In the springs?!"

"Fully clothed?!" Naru and Shinobu stopped and looked at each other, before the younger girl deferred.

"He was in the springs? Why?" Kitsune and Shinobu met each other's eyes in exasperation before Su, wiping an errant shred of onion from her mouth, dived into the discussion.

"'Cause he needed to clean them, silly Naru." The bespectacled girl paused for a second, before sighing and holding up a hand.

"Sorry, sorry. I sometimes forget he's in charge of the maintenance around here."

"Sempai was cleaning out the springs? He must have been really hot, it's scorching when you're wearing a towel." Shinobu took up on her point, looking a little anxious. Getting too hot was no good to anyone.

"Yeah. Guess he was right too." Three people looked at Mitsune curiously, Su being too busy scoffing the rest of the bread on the communal plate to care.

"Right about what?" Naru quizzed.

"Uh, nothing. Say, who wants some sake?" The fox-girl produced a green bottle from beneath the table, holding it up to the light and allowing it to filter through, casting a green glow upon the table. "The first purchase from today's big win!"

"Yay! Yay! Give us some, Kitsune!" Cheered Su, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"Mitsune-san, I cannot say I agree with you offering minors alcohol." Murmured Motoko, taking a sip of tea with a tiny frown.

"Ah, c'mon! They do it in some parts of Europe as a matter of habit, doesn't do them any harm." At the continuing frowns of Naru and Motoko, Kitsune capitulated, "Oh, you're no fun."

"Yeah, don't be meanies!" Su moaned, before taking off after Tama-chan (who had floated into the room looking for scraps) and presumably forgetting completely about the subject.

"Ara, did Kei-kun say what was wrong?" Asked Mutsumi, pushing her now empty dish away with a satisfied smile.

"No, sempai just thanked me and asked me to leave the dish outside so I wouldn't catch anything off him. His voice sounded a little muffled too, maybe he's coming down with a cold." Shinobu replied, clearing the used plates away with a spring in her step.

"Maybe you can ask him, Motoko-san. After all, you are still joining him tonight?" Naru asked, with a hard tone to her voice.

"Yes, I believe I will. Do not worry, I will enquire as to the nature of his illness. After I enquire as to the nature of his most recent perversion." Replied the swords woman, clutching her sword tightly.

"Oh. Good. And don't forget, I'm right upstairs, if he tries anything just call me, okay?" Naru conceded, though still clearly unhappy. The girl had never worked out exactly why Motoko chose the three-times ronin for a study partner and not her. And, to be honest, nor had any of the other girls. It seemed a no-brainer to be honest. A choice between Naru and Keitaro? Star pupil and fellow lady, or perverted male ex-loser? Yet the heir to the Shinmei-ryu chose the latter. When asked, Motoko would site the determination of her manager alongside the fact that Naru never offered her help, being too busy with her own studies.

Needless to say, several of the residents in the Hinata-sou viewed the arrangement with caution, or in Naru's case outright suspicion, believing blackmail and perversion to be involved. Yet not once had there been any evidence that the ex-ronin had been doing anything but tutoring his pupil, and if grades were anything to go by, the situation was definitely beneficial.

Which didn't stop Naru and Mitsune from spying occasionally.

"I will remember your proximity, in case Urashima should find some way to overpower me." Motoko eventually answered, with more than a touch of humour. "But in any case, I believe it is time for my appointed tutoring session. I trust you will leave me undisturbed." The humour contained a touch of edge, on one occasion when Keitaro was explaining a perfectly honest biology question Naru had descended from the ceiling and proceeded to send her manager into low earth orbit.

Motoko made it quite clear she did not appreciate such interruptions.

"No problem." Naru replied. "You know men can't be trusted."

"Yes." Surely not a hint of dryness in the reply. "But in any case, I must now place my delicate life in the hands of a perverted monster." Mutsumi and Mitsune couldn't help but snort at the comment.

"Okay, okay. Maybe he isn't as bad as some of them. But be careful anyway, won't you, Motoko?" Naru pleaded, taking her glasses off and cleaning them.

"I will. Worry not, I am far stronger than him. And even if I were not, I believe he would not act in an inappropriate manner." The green eyed girl stood away from the table, every inch a swords woman.

"Can you wish Kei-kun the best from me?" The Okinawan said, a hint of sadness in her tone.

"I will pass on any condolences you may wish to give me." Casting an emerald glance around the table, Motoko waited for any reply.

"Give Sempai my best wishes. I want him out and about soon as possible, he's too nice to be stuck in bed." Shinobu proclaimed, a faint blush on her face.

"Tell him I've filled the coffee jar, and want a chat with him soon." Mitsune added, sipping her first cup of sake.

"I would like to speak with him, over a melon if he were satisfied." Added the anaemic one. Almost unbidden, attention fixed on Naru. She felt it, inevitably, but huffed after a few seconds.

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind knowing if he's going to give me a virus." The rest of the table relaxed, knowing this was the best they were likely to get. Naru liked the resident male, that much was crystal clear, but even with their current relationship she was still loathe to admit it.

"You will be informed. But at this point I must leave you. Until later tonight, farewell." With that the graceful girl swept towards the stairs, and ascended them rapidly until out of sight.

"I may take my leave also, I feel like a good long soak." Mutsumi added, arcing her back to stretch in a way that would certainly cause blood-loss in the wrong company.

"Think I'll come along too. It's been a long day studying." Naru agreed. "Just let me take these dishes into the kitchen, and I'll see you there." Walking through the doorway, the brunette placed her load on the counter, noting Shinobu, diligent as ever, had the sink almost full already.

"Just pop them on the side there, I'll add them to the sink once this lot is done." As the usually meek and unassuming teen rolled up her sleeved and set to work, the older girl had to marvel at the swiftness and ease of her work. Soap and bubbles flew everywhere, yet never over her or the floor. Dishes coated in the remnants of stew that looked as if they had been doused in mud re-appeared gleaming as the day they were made. And all this done by someone smiling and whistling a cheery tune.

"You're amazing, Shinobu-chan."

"Hmmmm?" The violet-haired chef paused mid-scrub, looking up. "What was Naru-san?"

"You're amazing." Naru gestured with her hand at the rack of spotless dishes, smiling. "It would take me half an hour to do this, and in seconds..." The recipient of her praise blushed hotly, before returning to her work with a little less vigour.

"Yeah, well, I'm used to it by now."

"Honestly, it's like you've made it your own personal hideaway." Not noticing the younger girl's pause, Naru patted her on the shoulder before making for the door. "Will you be up to join us soon?"

"In a while, Naru-san. Shouldn't take me long to finish all these." As Shinobu resumed the washing-up, she allowed herself a moment of reflection. Naru didn't know quite how right she was.

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Mitsune slunk up to the closed door, propelled by idle curiosity. Much as she would like to believe that all going on beyond the door was nothing but business, the gossip within her was refusing to agree.

Motoko choosing to study with Keitaro, without anything underhanded going on? Ridiculous. Especially since the number of pervert slicings had plummeted recently.

And hence she tiptoed silently across the tan varnished floorboards, bathed in the bright light of the overhead lamp, knowing any kind of sound would alert the woman inside room 204. Becoming a great swords woman had sharpened Motoko's senses to the point an ant couldn't sneeze without her knowledge.

"...so, can you solve this one?" A muffled voice filtered through the wood of the door, and Mitsune froze in place, happy her approach was discreet enough.

"Hmmmm. I believe so, Urashima-san. Give me a moment." A few seconds passed, the fox-girl straining her ears to pick up any noise whilst barely daring to breathe. "...there. Does it look right to you?"

"Yes. Yes, perfect. Well done Motoko-chan, you get better every day. At this rate, you'll even surpass your mastery of the sword."

"Now now, Urashima-san. No need to get carried away." The reply was cool, but carried a smile nonetheless. "But thank you for your praise. So, the next problem then?"

"Sure. Give this one a try, I've seen it come up twice." Disappointed that as usual her detective work came up fruitless, Mitsune decided to join her fellow tenants in the hot spring for some sake and conversation. Preferably lots of both.

"Oh, Kitsune-san, I do not appreciate eavesdroppers. I would request once more that you cease this habit, it is most unbecoming of a young lady." Mitsune dropped her head at the call from inside room 204, and sloped away, any pretence of subtlety forgotten. It was beyond her how someone could hear a person who made no sound. But then again, the silver fox had long given up on understanding Motoko.

"Ah, sod it. I think that bottle I started at dinner should suffice for now." The young lady muttered, frustrated that, for once, her usual instincts seemed to be failing her. Maybe it was time to pin Keitaro down, next time he was either in the springs or in some other compromising position, and wring out a few answers that way.

"Hiya Kitsune! Comin' to join us?" Koalla Su sprung out from nowhere and wrapped herself around Mitsune's shoulders, peering over to look at her face to face, albeit upside-down.

"Yeah, sure thing. Lemmie grab something from my room, I'll be right down." Happy at the response the tan-skinned Molmolian leapt from her perch and made a beeline for the springs, making aeroplane noises as she went. Smiling at the childish glee of the girl, Mitsune slipped into her room, picking up a bottle from her dresser. "Well, let the festivities commence!" she murmured, letting any worries stay in the room as she slid the door shut.

Evenings in the Hinata-sou were too good to waste with things like that.

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"Is she gone?" Motoko nodded, returning her emerald gaze to the kanrinin's.

"Yes. I have to say that her habit of snooping grows tiresome." Keitaro cracked a small grin.

"She is persistent, I'll give her that."

"Her stealth is quite impressive, also. I must admit I did not hear her approach, I doubt even my sister could do so." Motoko herself allowed a small smile to grace her lips. "It is very much a shame for her that she doesn't take all the senses into account."

"Heh, you could say that." The brown-haired man was about to flip over a page in the textbook when a quiet question made him pause.

"Why do you tolerate that kind of behaviour, Urashima-san?" Fingers tapping the table idly, Keitaro answered equally quietly.

"Because I don't really mind, to be honest. She's consistent at least, I know what to expect. And although she's always up to things, there's never...malice involved."

"Ah, Urashima-san -" Motoko was cut off by a gently raised hand.

"Don't worry about it Motoko-san. We get on better than we used to, right? Although there are times when I've earned one of your special techniques." The manager rocked back, staring up at the ceiling. "Wish I could say that about everybody..."

"Keitaro-kun?" Watching the man sat opposite look casually skywards, Motoko could almost believe he was merely daydreaming of his beloved.

The white knuckles of the hand that gripped the table suggested otherwise.

Ahem Broken out of his reverie, Keitaro caught the raised eyebrow of the lady opposite and chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head.

"Don't mind me, always in my own world." The raised eyebrow dropped, and the kendoist regarded her kanrinin with a level gaze.

"So, why did you go on another unscheduled flight, Urashima-san?"

"Ah, well, it was another one of our misunderstandings." Into the silence following the statement, a door slid open and dull footsteps could be heard from the ceiling.

"A misunderstanding." Motoko stood, her tone hard and clear. "Same as the misunderstanding that involved your wanton groping of Mutsumi last week?" Something in the voice promised pain, and the footfalls from above paused.

"No, Motoko-san, I swear! Nothing like that!" Came the desperate reply. "I just got an attack of foot-in-mouth, that's all!" Motoko laid a hand on her katana, and fixed the 'pervert' with a hawkish gaze.

"Well, I will take your words as truth for now." The willowy beauty slowly re-took her seat opposite Keitaro, still fixing him with her stare. "But if I hear reports to the contrary then god help you Urashima-san, for none else can." Chuckling nervously, Keitaro cringed slightly at the continuing scrutiny.

"I will bear that in mind, Motoko-san." The two regarded each other in silence, waiting for a response. After a few moments the sound of footfalls resumed, this time leaving the room, followed by a door sliding shut.

"Going to the springs for the evening, I suppose." Motoko murmured, and Keitaro nodded in agreement.

"Well, now that our interruptions are out of the way, shall we actually get on with some studying?" Keitaro suggested, gesturing to the books bathed in lamplight upon the table. The Kanrinin had found that keeping the table lit with the rest of the room dim helped his pupil focus.

"That would make sense, wouldn't it Motoko-chan?"

"It would indeed. With centre exams so close, time is indeed of the essence." She rifled through the pages, stopping at the maths section. "I feel this may be suitable for tonight Keitaro-kun."

"Maths, huh? Okay, I'm fine with that. Amazing the difference a year and a half in Tokyo U makes." The ex-ronin smiled at the current ronin, one that was slowly returned. "I fully expect to see you there come spring."

"Oh, Keitaro-kun, stop flattering me." But the rosy tint to the normally unflappable girl's cheeks spoke volumes. "So, this problem has always caused me difficulty, would you shed some light on it?"

"Ah, that one caused me hell for ages. What you do is..."

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Naru settled into the steaming water, pleased to see Mutsumi serenely relaxing in the springs. The Okinawan was a good barometer. If Mutsumi was happy, it was a good indicator that life in the Hinata-sou was equally pleasant.

"How are your studies, Naru-san?"

"Going very well, thanks. I've been putting in so many hours since Christmas I hardly know what day it is. Yours?"

"I've been told that so long as I continue to do catch-up work for my numerous absences, I will have no problems." The two university students relaxed back against their respective rocks with eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the bath against the cold night air.

"Heyyyyy, look out below!" Peace that was thoroughly ruined by the arrival of Su, accompanied by a large splash.

"Thanks, Su-chan." Naru remarked dryly, wiping water from her face.

"No Problemo!" The energetic girl beamed at the two thoroughly soaked women before swimming off across the springs, making happy bubbling noises.

"Energetic, ne?" Mutsumi said, relaxing back again this time looking up at the half-moon.

"Too much energy for me, way too much." Replied Naru, trailing her fingers across the water's surface.

"Couldn't agree more, sugar." Mitsune interjected, sliding into the steaming bath. Shinobu slid the door shut behind her and she too stepped into the water, finding her usual comfortable position.

"So, any plans for tomorrow?" The mild-mannered Okinawan asked, casting a look at the fox-lady.

"Nah, not really. Got another sweet tip, that bookmaker can't resist me." Mitsune stood, striking a seductive pose. "Hey sugar, I'm a little low on funds this week, got a hot tip you could slip my way? I'll be sure to thank you..." Shinobu and Mutsumi giggled at the sultry tone.

"Honestly, Mitsune. You'll get a reputation if you keep doing that." Scowled Naru, but with a hint of humour.

"Already got one, Naru. May as well use it, yeah?" The voluptuous lady sank back into the water, wearing a tiny smile.

"How about you Shinobu-chan?" Continued Mutsumi.

"Well, thought I'd make a nice big breakfast, with some of Sempai's favourites!" Replied the violet-haired girl, cheeks reddening as they usually did whenever she mentioned a certain someone.

"And you, Naru-san?"

"Oh, it's Saturday right? Think I might study for a while in the morning, then pop out to do some shopping. I really need some new shoes." Mutsumi's smile seemed to dim for a moment, before resuming in full force.

"Well, I might join you tomorrow afternoon. You never know, you might find something else you need." With that enigmatic comment, the young lady eased back against the smooth stone behind her, and closed her eyes.

"And I'm gonna give Keitaro a biiiiiiiiiig kiss!" Su proceeded to demonstrate on a startled Mitsune, who suddenly found another pair of lips tightly clamped to her own. After a slightly-too-long pause, the Molmolian princess released the glomp and scampered out of the springs.

"Waaaaay too much energy." The silver-haired girl growled, swiping an irritated hand across her lips. Opening the sake bottle floating beside her she took a long swig, grinning as the burn began in her stomach. "If she ever, ever starts usin' tongue, I'm movin' out!"

"I think that goes for all of us." The Okinawan said dryly, standing up slowly. "I believe I'm done, I will see you all tomorrow morning." Waving a hand in farewell, she stood up onto the boarding and, miraculously, managed to walk out to the changing room and shut the door behind her without fainting once.

The dull thump a few seconds later came as no surprise to anyone.

"I'll go help her out." Shinobu said, jumping up and hurrying after the unfortunate girl. Naru and Mitsune made eye contact, one declining the other's offer of sake.

"Why do you suppose Mutsumi was holding onto that question?" Naru asked, drumming idle fingers on her knee.

"Beats me." The resident wild girl replied, taking another gulp of sake. "But hey, no worries, right? It's a Saturday, so it's bound to be good."

"Yeah." Naru swept her long brown hair back, and settled more deeply into the water. "I'll have to check my calendar, once I've copied the one from last year over."

"No bother. I might try my hand at writing something, it's been a while." The idle conversation drifted off into the night air as the two friends shared the evening over the bottle of sake, not knowing that the next day would prove to be a little more significant than they might have thought.

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Not really a cliffie, but seemed a good place to finish for now.

Please R&R, I would like to know if this story is worth following up!

Hope you enjoyed reading.

Nodoka.


	2. Chapter 2

This is chapter 2. Obviously.

I didn't realise you had to turn anonymous reviews on, thought the default setting would be on...So anyone who had the desire to review but got deterred by this, feel free to do so now

Thanks to those who reviewed, and top DeathofHell for giving me a kind welcome!

Well, on with the fic.

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Repercussions, Chapter 2.

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Saturday dawned overcast. While the day before had been bright and crisp, now the skies were leaden and brooding, the wind biting. It came as no surprise to anyone watching the weather forecast that the first major snowfall of the winter was due at any time.

It was to this that Keitaro awoke. The kanrinin sat up and stretched whilst yawning widely, before hurriedly burying himself back beneath his sheets. It was cold. Very cold.

"Maybe I should have shut the window..." He groused, although smiling. He had to smile today. But for the time being, the man decided to apply his focus on how to get dressed and downstairs without freezing to the floor. Between leaving the window ajar and sleeping in very little, it appeared an arduous task.

"Sempai?" Shinobu's meek voice filtered into his room. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah Shinobu-chan, come on in." Without another word the diminutive girl slipped through his doorway, carrying a full tray of something that steamed.

"Good morning Sempai!" Turning to face Keitaro she instantly coloured at the sight of her heart's desire propped up on elbows, showing quite a lot of bare chest – which to the girl's eyes appeared perfectly chiselled – before composing herself.

"Good morning. Wrapped up well, I see." Taking in the long pink silk pyjamas and thick red dressing gown, Keitaro had to work hard to ignore the fact that Shinobu was definitely growing into a beautiful young lady.

"Yes, it is so bitter this morning." Cheered massively by the not-so-subtle appraisal, Shinobu knelt next to Keitaro's futon. "Since you weren't feeling so well yesterday I thought I'd bring you some breakfast up."

"You're an angel, Shinobu-chan." Appraising the huge western-style breakfast he enjoyed as a rare treat, the resident manager glanced back up at the talented chef. "What time is it?"

"Oh, about eight in the morning." Keitaro's eyes widened.

"What time did you get up to make this? It must have taken at least half an hour to do it all. On a Saturday too." Shinobu turned her eyes away, fingers working at the hem of her gown.

"It's no trouble Sempai. I enjoyed making it." The brown-haired man cast a glance skywards, and decided that it was worth the risk of the potential misunderstanding. With a smile, he patted the floor beside him.

"Then join me in enjoying it." The chef's head snapped up, violet eyes wide.

"S-sempai?"

"Honestly, there's far too much for me to handle."

"B-but, there's only one set of cutlery." The young man smiled.

"Tell you what, you nip down to the kitchen and get another set with the kettle, and I'll put something warm on in the meantime." Shinobu blink-blinked as her mind went into overdrive. The traditional meek side of her screamed at her that it would be inappropriate.

It was brutally murdered, mutilated and buried by the side that told her to stop being so damn Shinobu and take a chance for once.

"I'll be right back." She whispered, and was gone with a speed that almost blew the bookshelf over.

"She must be hungry." Smiled Keitaro, who decided to make good on his part of the deal. Getting up he took a sip of tea, which helped to dispel the icy edge in the room. "Well, guess I should get changed, put something warm on." Slipping casually out of his boxer shorts, the kanrinin began rummaging through his underwear draw intent on finding his warmest socks, mind wandering off onto his plans for the day. Hopefully Seta and Sarah would be able to swing by; his mentor said they would if the weather held off. And probably get a call from Kanako, wherever the hell she was now. Granny Hina had decided to take her on her latest world tour, but Keitaro doubted that being in the depths of the Pacific or ten miles from the North Pole would stop her calling her Ooutosan on January the fifth.

It was only when he stopped dreaming and actually found the desired underwear that the kanrinin realised that the distance to the kitchen really wasn't that far.

"Got some, sem-" Shinobu panted, slipping through the door. She popped the hot kettle on the floor, and looked up.

Freeze-frame.

Keitaro blanched, both at the scrutiny and the impending doom that accompanied any such situation, alongside the fact he still had his early-morning, ahem, visitor. Shinobu on the other hand found herself unable, or possibly unwilling, to avert her gaze. The last time anything like this happened she was barely in a situation to appreciate anything. Now at just over sixteen, and with no interruptions, she was very happy to appreciate the situation. And, in her view, what she was appreciating was worth her appreciation.

Gradually, the violet gaze was torn away from it's chosen target and travelled reluctantly upwards, until it met its brown counterpart.

Not a syllable was spoken, but words passed nonetheless. Along the lines of 'please don't make a sound, or I am so very dead.' Understanding, Shinobu backed silently out through the doorway and slid the door shut. A few seconds of silence. And then, a very quiet exclamation.

"Oh my."

Releasing the breath he didn't know he was holding, Keitaro hurriedly dressed in heavy trousers and a thick brown sweater, mumbling prayers to whoever may listen that this didn't get back to Naru. As he slid slippers onto his sock-clad feet, a cautious knock indicated that someone wasn't planning on making the same mistake twice.

"Come in, I'm fully decent now." Cautiously, with a face that could rival cherries for redness, Shinobu crept into the room.

"Ah, I'm sorry Sempai, I should have knocked." Bowing in apology, the bashful girl began backing through the still open door.

"Where are you going, Shinobu-chan?" The retreat paused, and Shinobu carefully peeked up at her sempai.

"To go and start my own breakfast." Keitaro shook his head, and gestured her back in.

"Your breakfast is here, isn't it?" He scratched the back of his head, with an expression of embarrassment. "Unless I've made you uncomfortable, of course. Sorry, Shinobu-chan."

Although very aware that her mind was very much stuck on 'Oh my' and that blood was rapidly running to places she wasn't really accustomed to, Shinobu felt the offer far too good to decline.

"No, it's okay Sempai." Sliding the door shut, the girl carefully picked up the heavily laden tray and placed it onto the table Keitaro had shifted to the centre of the room. The archaeology student poured a fresh round of tea and gestured for his guest to go ahead. Wordlessly she did, all the while trying to get her thoughts back under control. With little success.

'I'm having breakfast with Sempai. Breakfast with Sempai. In Sempai's room. Breakfast. With Sempai. Oh god, I hope this isn't a dream!'

"Shinobu-chan?" Looking up, Shinobu noticed Keitaro looking a little awkward. "I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't think you'd be back so quickly, I should've changed faster. Hope you weren't too disturbed by seeing me...y'know..." The awkwardness descended into an expression of pure shame, and the ex-ronin almost seemed to withdraw into himself. "But if you want to yell, or let Naru or Motoko perform some suitable punishment, I'll understand." The sight of her beloved mentor almost bracing for impact snapped Shinobu out of her spin instantly.

"Sempai?" Reaching out tentatively, the high-school girl felt her heart constrict as the man opposite shrunk back yet further. Shocked, she almost retracted her hand, wondering where on earth this reaction was coming from. It was her fault, after all, she barged in on him, right? Fixing her resolve, Shinobu covered the rest of the distance and laid a gentle palm on a shoulder she was horrified to find trembling. "Sempai, I should be apologising, I walked in on you. How you were supposed to change in fifteen seconds I don't know." Sensing her words were having some effect, the girl kept talking. "So will you let me apologise?" Slowly, Keitaro raised his head, taking in the earnest expression opposite him.

"No, Shinobu, there's nothing for you to apologise for."

"Apologise for what?" The two froze, before looking up. To see Naru peering sleepily through the hole above them, bottle-bottom glasses perched precariously on her nose. Keitaro went instantly into defence mode, waving his arms frantically.

"Ahh, Naru-chan, it was nothing, I can explain..."

"I spilt the tea over his futon when I brought breakfast." Shinobu cut in calmly, taking her hand from her Sempai's shoulder quickly.

"In his room?" Came the reply, with a hint of suspicion.

"He wasn't well yesterday, and it was so bitter this morning, I didn't want Sempai getting a chill." Naru blinked slowly, before shrugging and drowsily accepting the explanation.

"Okay then. Just make sure the pervert doesn't try anything. I'll see you at breakfast." With that the board slid back into place, and Keitaro heaved a sigh of relief.

"Oh man, thought I was a goner then." He turned to thank Shinobu, only to find her still staring upwards with an expression rarely seen on her normally cheerful face. Was that anger? Annoyance? "Shinobu-chan, are you okay?"

"Yeah." Taking a deep breath, Shinobu managed a small smile. "Yes, I'm fine thank you, Sempai."

"Good." Noticing the girl gathering up the rolled up futon, he paused. "Um, what are you doing with that?"

"Washing it of course!" Giving Keitaro a small wink, she continued in a cheery voice. "After all, you can't sleep in a soaking futon, can you?"

"Yes, you're right. Thanks, Shinobu-chan. Do you want me to carry it?"

"I'll be fine." There was no way Shinobu was going to let this still-warm, vaguely Keitaro-scented bundle out of her grasp. "You go on down with the dishes, and put the kettle back on. Then I'll make us some breakfast we can actually get around to eating."

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Naru sat on a chair at the edge of her balcony, staring at the snow billowing from clouds which showed no intention of taking a break. The blizzard had broken loose before she had even joined the breakfast table. Where she had received a nasty surprise.

"Happy birthday, Kei-kun!" Mutsumi had cheered, a brightly-wrapped gift in her hands. A grinning Keitaro had received the gift, whilst his girlfriend had frozen in abject horror. Looking on as her boyfriend had unwrapped a porcelain reconstruction set (perfect for sticking artefacts back together, Mutsumi had chirruped) Naru suddenly felt a sinking sensation deep in the pit of her stomach.

"Thanks Mutsumi-chan, it's perfect!" The Okinawan gave her usual response – a kiss, this one on the lips – but the bespectacled girl had barely noticed, instead casting a frantic look out of the window.

To see a curtain of white sweeping across it, almost obscuring the nearest trees from view.

"Here you go Keitaro-kun." Haruka, who had shut up her coffee shop based on the forecast, casually handed her nephew what was obviously a broom despite the wrapping. "I know you need a new one after what happened last week." The kanrinin gave a small smile.

"It's what I've always wanted, Haruka-obasan" He exclaimed cheekily. His 'aunt' reached for her fan, but ended up smiling back.

"I'll let you off that Keitaro-bozu, this time. Just this time." The inevitable cigarette went back into the stoic woman's mouth, and she took a satisfied drag. "Oh, and there's a token for one free coffee in there too. When you need it, bring it on down."

"Thanks Haruka-san." This time the thanks was genuine, and Haruka stayed impassive, except for a few quick smoke puffs.

"No problem." Next up was Su.

"Happy birthday Keitaros!" The tan princess yelled, hurling herself at the birthday boy in a full-scale glomp, followed by an over-the-top kiss which nearly stripped the kanrinin's face off.

"Y'know, to if she ever hits puberty, we're in a whole heap of trouble." Haruka murmured to Mutsumi, who nodded gently in agreement. The second half of the present turned out to be a huge bunch of bananas. Keitaro plucked one off and gave it right back, which earned him a second glomp before Su sat down to happily devour her extra breakfast.

"Do you mind if I give you my gift later?" Naru broke in, noting that Mitsune and Motoko were absent. There was simply no way she was going to be the only one around the table who gave nothing.

"Sure, Naru-chan." Keitaro replied, turning to Shinobu who was anxiously waiting to give her gift. Giving a second anxious glance at the snowstorm outside, the brown-haired girl excused herself and hurriedly left the table, not noticing her actions were being watched.

And so Naru sat on her balcony, red coat wrapped snugly around her torso, watching the swirling snowflakes and trying her best not to scream. January the fifth! How could she have missed it?

It's not as if people at the Hinata-sou had never missed dates like this before. Shinobu's birthday a few years ago, valentine's day...

But none of these involved a genuine relationship. Not like the one Naru and Keitaro shared now.

Naru peered short-sightedly out into the wall of white, letting her thoughts take over. Things had been progressing slowly between herself and Keitaro. Slowly was what she liked. Sure, she still lost her temper a bit now and again, but whenever she saw Keitaro taking advantage of any of the other residents, or trying to act on his ingrained male perversions, there was never a question in her mind. His apologies only ever served to confirm any suspicions the young lady had – who apologised when they weren't guilty? One thing she was sure of was that he loved her, and she was pretty damn sure she felt the same way. And he always returned unscathed, more or less, so no harm was done.

But today...

Squinting into the blizzard, Naru tried to reassure herself that it wasn't snowing as hard as a few minutes ago.

Which was clearly a lie.

Any other day she would be half-way to town, frantically counting her spare change. Today, forget it. Even the most blindly optimistic person would know that little would be open on a day like today, and transport sparse at best. Which left her with a big problem. Logic told her that admitting her mistake was the best choice, as Keitaro would forgive her as he always did.

But doing that would mean swallowing all her pride, and accepting she was in the wrong. An option that the strong-minded girl couldn't truly contemplate. And even Kei, with his seemingly limitless loyalty, would be no doubt hurt by her totally ignoring the day.

So, what was left?

"Mornin' sugar. Sheez, it's cold in here!" Mitsune shuddered, drawing her slightly too skimpy green gown more tightly around her.

"Morning Kitsune." Sighed Naru, still gazing morosely out at the snow, which was already several inches deep.

"What's up Naru?" Mitsune strolled through the room, joining her friend out to her balcony.

"It's January the fifth."

"And?"

"It's Keitaro's birthday."

"Ohhhhhhhh..." Taking a seat beside Naru, Mitsune stared out into the snow. "And it ain't the kinda day ya can just pop to the shops, right?" A morose nod was the reply. "Ah, I can see the problem sugar. 'Fraid I can't be of much help. I haven't gotten the guy anythin' either."

"But you're not his 'girlfriend', Kitsune." Naru slapped the railing in annoyance. "I wondered why Mutsumi was making such a fuss yesterday. She could have come right out and told me, but nooooooo, she had to sit and watch. She's probably sat there right now, smugly stroking her melons at the thought of getting one over me."

"Naru, don't try blaming someone else for your own mistake." Surprised by the harder tone, the brunette glanced over at her friend to see a slight frown on the fox-lady's face. "Having a go at Mutsumi won't change anythin'. It was too late to get somethin' last night anyways." Seeing genuine distress on Naru's face, Mitsune lightened her tone. "'Sides, he'll forgive you. He always does, he'll forgive any of us. Just come right out and tell him, apologise, say him you'll make it up to him. I can think of plenty of ways you can do that, an' all!" She finished with a broad grin, as Naru shuddered.

"No thanks, I'd rather have Su glomp me." The free-spirited girl chuckled gently at her friend's distate.

"Naru, yer the biggest prude I've ever met."

"I just don't trust men. They only want one thing, and it's not something I'm giving out." Looking at her almost-sister from the corner of her eye, Naru thought of another possibility. "You wouldn't have anything hanging around I could use..."

"As I said, can't help you there sugar. He'd know straight away it wasn't really from you." Finding herself out of options, the bespectacled girl let out a frustrated sigh.

"Damn. Guess I'll have to go to plan B, buy something soon as I can get out of here and tell him I got the dates mixed up." Sensing disappointment emanating from Mitsune, the Tokyo-U student pressed on. "Look, he gets something, I get out of jail, and everyone is happy."

"Naru, why don't you just apologise, kiss and make up? The brown-eyed girl shook her head, almost recoiling at the thought.

"I prefer my option, thanks. I'd rather not have to apologise, and as for kiss him? Are you kidding?" Into the pause a gentle male voice floated up from below, startling the two girls.

"It's okay Naru-san, no need to get me anything. I wasn't expecting much, my birthday is so close to Christmas anyway." A door slid shut, and then there was only the sound of the wind whistling through the trees.

Naru stared at Mitsune in horror.

"Oh crap, how long was he on the balcony below us?" The fox-girl returned the look with a touch of pity.

"Dunno, Naru. Long enough, by the sound of things." Sensing her friend beginning to panic, Mitsune placed a gentle palm on Naru's knee. "But I think that the apologise-or-not decision has kinda been made."

"I know, Kitsune." Wringing her hands together, Naru stared out into the snowstorm. "But I can't do it right now. Not right now, maybe later."

"Really?" The sliver-haired girl pressed, getting to her feet.

"Yeah, maybe." Hedged her friend, still looking utterly lost.

"Naru..." At the odd tone, Naru looked up to see Mitsune gazing at her in a way that made her uneasy. "I wanna hear you've done it by dinner. If you haven't, well -" The young lady broke off, looking at the floor for a second, before continuing. "-well, ain't much I can do. But you'll regret it, sugar." With that Mitsune slipped through the open doorway, and without another word left the room. Naru stared at the vacant spot blankly for a moment, before going back to snowgazing.

"Damn it." She muttered, the flakes all blurring into one alabaster haze as the inevitable tears came. 'This time, I'm the idiot. Maybe I should punch myself for once...'

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Mitsune repeated her stealthy approach of the night before, confident that this time there was no superhuman swords woman with some kind of inbuilt radar inside room 204. Stopping at the threshold, she once again strained her ears. He seemed calm enough when he spoke a minute ago, but that was never, ever a good sign.

After a good half-minute of waiting, the silver fox decided that, just maybe, her instincts were wrong this time. She was about to leave when a tiny sniff, followed by a hiccup, slipped through the closed door. Nodding, Mitsune decided to leave the kanrinin alone, not wishing to spy on what should really be private. As she slipped down the corridor into her own room, the lady found herself feeling oddly upset for her male friend. Cursing herself for being so sentimental, she decided to put some upbeat music on and work at her latest writing project. But one thing remained lodged in her mind.

'Naru had better have a damn good apology ready...'

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Haruka Urashima did not look happy. This was not an unusual state of affairs, at least to those who didn't know her well. Her usual stoicism was often mistaken for ill temper. But in this case, the owner of the coffee shop was definitely not in a good mood.

Having to go down a huge number of stairs in the deepening snow to open her shop wasn't part of her plan for the day.

But when her relative had handed her the 'free coffee' token he had received that morning, with a look that said he really needed it, the older woman had not asked questions. Hence her turning the heating on full blast in the frigid shop and putting a kettle on to boil whilst unwrapping a black scarf from around her neck. The 'free coffee' arrangement was one that had been going on for some time – which was essentially code for a no-holds-barred private chat – and was used whenever one of the Urashimas had something on their mind.

Haruka was getting worried by the amount of coffee that was being consumed.

"I wish that girl would sort herself out, she's sending that nephew of mine around the bend." She muttered to herself, fishing a favoured blend of light-roast coffee from behind the counter. Most people would not equate Haruka with any kind of strong emotion, but when it came to family no holds were barred.

The seemingly endless cycle of yes-no-maybe going on was wearing on her almost as much as her Keitaro.

The last time he had popped over for 'coffee' he had, for the first time she could remember, expressed his doubts that the relationship was going to work. Constant mixed signals, sweetness and light one second, painful misunderstanding the next.

"Haruka-obasan?" Keitaro slipped into the room, accompanied by a flurry of white flakes.

"Again, I'll let you off that one." Replied the stoic woman, fishing out some cups as the water came to the boil. Pleased that her breath was no longer creating little clouds of mist, Haruka slipped her coat off and placed it on a nearby hook. "Take a seat. I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay." As Keitaro removed his coat and put it on a second hook, his aunt set the coffee brewing and sat down at the nearest table. The Hinata-sou manager slid into the seat opposite, and the hazel-eyed woman could feel her calm mask crack. The man looked a mess.

"I'm guessing that she forgot then?" A morose nod was the reply. "Well, don't worry too much, Kei-kun. These things happen. Besides, the girl spends so much of her life in a book that I'm surprised she knows what month it is."

"I know. Everyone has been guilty at some time. But the first time we're together, I kinda hoped it would be different."

"And?" At Keitaro's curious look, Haruka took long drag on her cigarette before fishing it from her mouth. "Come on, you're far too worked up for it to be so simple. What's the real problem?" Her nephew sighed gently, chin propped on hands.

"You know me too well, Haruka-san." He gratefully accepted a mug of steaming coffee, and sipped at it gingerly. "I was out on the balcony after breakfast, just watching the snow. Then I heard voices above me……" The kanrinin laughed bitterly, staring deep into the dark fluid. "My own fault for listening I guess. It was Naru asking Mitsune for her advice. I was out there long enough to hear she was planning to dupe me, and then-" The sigh that came this time was far deeper. "-She laughed off any kind of suggestion of, well, I know it's silly. But when someone you love can't even stand the thought of giving you a kiss….."

"Kei-kun, there's nothing silly about that." Haruka set her cigarette on the ashtray edge, taking a sip of her own drink. "It's natural to want some physical affection, I can't think of a sensible man who doesn't appreciate it."

"Hah, guess that makes sense." Keitaro broke in morosely. "Seems Naru is spot on, I'm just a perverted male." The stern-faced woman shot him a stern look, and he fell silent again.

"Now, if you'll let me finish." Haruka continued in a lecturing tone. "Come to think of it, I can't think of a sensible woman who doesn't appreciate it either!" Her voice softened suddenly, along with her expression. "Seriously Kei, stop taking all the punches for this. Just because you've been accused, it doesn't make you guilty."

"But Haruka….."

"But nothing!" In the silence, the hazel-eyed woman fought to get herself under control again. After a deep breath, a slug of coffee and a long drag of cigarette, she continued in a more placid tone. "Look. I'm just saying there's nothing wrong with wanting to know your partner likes you, that they find you attractive. It's only natural; she's the one that has it upside-down."

"Well, if you say so." The kanrinin took a long drink from his own mug, glancing around at the deserted coffee shop. "Doesn't make it any easier, though."

"Kei, I'm sure she didn't really mean it."

"Then why would she say it?" The young man flung his hands up in frustration, nearly sending brown liquid flying across the counter. "It was just her and Mitsune, who knows her inside-out. Why would she not mean it? There was no-one there she needed to lie to."

"I know, I know. But that's Naru, the girl can't even be honest with herself." At his aunt's reply, Keitaro drained the rest of his drink, before piercing the older lady with an odd look.

"Are you sure, Haruka?" He got up and stretched carefully, before turning towards the door. However, his soft, almost desolate voice still carried to Haruka's ears. "It seems to me she's being completely honest with herself. Besides, who'd want to kiss someone like me anyway?" With a brief 'thanks for the drink' the man disappeared out into the snowstorm, leaving Haruka staring at the empty cup opposite.

Not a move was made for several minutes, until the cigarette had burnt out and the last of the coffee was tepid at best. Eventually, the stoic lady leaned back and stared at the ceiling, reaching for another nicotine stick.

"Boy, those two are going to give me ulcers." She murmured, slipping the filter end between her lips and lighting up with tremulous hands. Taking another steadying inhalation, Haruka paused before blowing a stream of smoke at the solitary light above her. "If it was anyone else I'd have them out on their arse for giving Kei that much shit. But he'd never forgive me." After another moment of roof-gazing, the shop owner sluggishly rose from her chair to switch off the heater. "And I wouldn't want to send Naru back to her family anyway. Guess I'd better hope she comes to her senses soon." Deciding to head back to the main house, Haruka quickly buttoned up her coat and drew her scarf tight around her face. Casting a last look back at the two now empty cups she gave a quite Un-Haruka-like sigh before clicking off the light.

Outside the wind seemed to have further upped its efforts, and nearly blew the tall woman off her feet. After quickly locking up she set off up the stairs, her last thought swept away on the blizzard.

"Because if she doesn't come to her senses soon, Kei just might come to his."

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For the rest of the day the atmosphere in the Hinata-sou was, shall we say, awkward. Perhaps strained is more accurate. In any case, Motoko picked up on it virtually instantly. Between Shinobu's recurrent blushing fits, Mitsune's unusually quiet demeanour and the 'happy couple' seemingly dropping off the face of the earth it was pretty obvious something had happened.

Now the heir to the Shinmei-ryu was no fool. Although initially naïve emotionally, life at the Hinata-sou along with her sister's more recent assistance had allowed her to tune her acute senses to more than just threat or pervert detection. And something today was throwing her off-kilter.

With a deep breath the elegant girl eased from her meditation position, shaking an inch of snow from her shoulders. Normally, the hum of snowfall against silence proved soothing for her, but there was too much going on around her to ignore. Striding to the roof entrance, enjoying the crunching of her feet, Motoko took one last look at the sky before heading inside. The snow still fell, now in the steady, consistent manner that suggested it was not going to be leaving for a while. As there was already over half a foot on the ground, the kendoist was thankful that there was more than enough food in the house to make shopping a distant prospect.

"Hello, Motoko-san. Still going out there?" Shrugging off her heavy travel cloak, Motoko nodded.

"Yes. The wind has eased, I doubt the fall will stop tonight." The woman stood in front of her cupped a cheek in her hand, concerned.

"Ara, I hope I have enough watermelons to see me through. It would be awful to run out." Motoko had to smile at the response. Trust Mutsumi to think of that first.

"I believe, Otohime-san, that you could comfortably open a shop with the amount you have." The Okinawan smiled back.

"You can never have too many, Motoko-san. Anyway, I was just about to call you for dinner."

"Thank you. Shall we go?" Mutsumi nodded, and the two set off towards the dining room. "I believe Shinobu has been busy in the kitchen again. She really is a master for someone so young."

"Ara, she's far more a chef than I could ever be." The cheery tone of the bubbly woman beside her gave stark contrast to the aura of the household, something that gave Motoko hope.

"I agree completely. I could never hope to become a master in the culinary arts." As the two entered the dining room, the flicker of hope died instantly. Shinobu was dishing up with an all-too-pink face, the same she had worn all day. Mitsune appeared pensive, fiddling with her cutlery, and Haruka was watching proceedings with hawkish intensity. Su was, as always, oblivious. But the other two sat at the table, conveniently as far apart as possible, may as well have had huge storm clouds hovering above their heads. Mutsumi seemed to notice as well, her permanent smile faltered before re-appearing. As her anaemic friend was going for the 'blissfully ignorant' approach, Motoko decided to follow suit.

"Here you are, sempai! A big serving for the birthday boy!" Cheered Shinobu, dishing some rice onto Keitaro's plate, seemingly oblivious. "Oh, Motoko-san, Mutsumi-san. Take a seat, I'll have yours ready now." As the pair complied, the grinning cook swiftly spooned some more rice out to the new arrivals.

As she set some out for herself and joined the table, it suddenly struck the young girl that everybody was quiet. Other than Su of course, who had set to work at a mountain of food that was rapidly becoming a molehill.

"So, uh, awful weather we've been having." Commented Mitsune, receiving a round of silent nods. Deciding to step things up a bit, the fun-loving girl decided to step things up a bit. "How 'bout I raid my stash, and we have a big ol' party to celebrate our kanrinin's birthday then?"

"Mitsune-san –" Haruka's caution was drowned by a chorus of agreement from the two youngest at the table and Mutsumi.

"Although normally I disagree with the drinking of sake in the house, I feel this is a suitable situation." Put in Motoko.

"Would you like that Kei-kun?" Mutsumi asked leaning over towards the bespectacled man, giving him a good view of her considerable cleavage at the same time.

"Mmmm, sounds good." Replied Keitaro, busy pushing food around his plate. The Okinawan's smile did not disintegrate at his disinterest.

"Ah, good!" Going back to her seat, the busty brunette scooped up another mound of rice. "So, get any more nice presents today?" Abruptly, the clicking from two sets of chopsticks halted.

"Uh, well, Motoko-san and Naru-san said that they were going to give me their presents later. So no, nothing yet." At this calm statement a single set of chopsticks clattered loudly to the floor.

"I have stated that I will give my gift to Keitaro-san this evening as thanks for his tutelage." Motoko stated blandly, gazing at her food. "However, I will not press upon him to tutor me today. Is that acceptable, sensei?" Keitaro nodded silently in response.

"So, have you gotten Kei-kun anything nice?" It seemed Mutsumi wasn't finished.

"That, I believe, is entirely down to the recipient's opinion." Came the calm reply. The Okinawan switched her attention to Naru, who was scrabbling beneath the table for her fallen chopsticks.

"How about you, Naru-chan?"

"What? Uh….." The antennae-haired girl peered up, finding six pairs of eyes on her. Knowing that at least three of them would know she was lying, the girl stumbled over the choice between saving face and confessing.

"I'm sure it will be nice." Keitaro cut in, appearing almost bored. "So, how about we end this line of questioning and get on with the main business of the night?"

"Great idea sugar!" Mitsune dived in, sliding her chair back. "Mutsumi-san, you help Shinobu-chan with the dishes, the rest of you get the table set and the music on!" Grabbing Keitaro by the elbow, the fox-girl pulled him to his feet. "And you, birthday boy, are gonna come choose the drinks for tonight!" The last sight the surprised ex-ronin had was the puzzled brown gaze of his promised girl before he was woman-handled up the stairs towards Mitsune's room. Before he could even protest at the treatment he was stood in the middle of the resident party animal's room, and the fox herself was sliding the door shut.

"Uh, Kitsune-san?" The silver-blonde turned to look at him, and Keitaro found himself suddenly very scared. The eyes were slitted and piercing, like a tiger about to pounce. The Kanrinin had only seen the look a handful of times before, and it meant only one thing – Mitsune wanted answers.

"Kei-kun, I wanna know one thing." The brown-haired man steeled himself for the interrogation.

"What's that, Kitsune-san?"

"……Why?"

That'll do for now.

Next chapter in the next week, hopefully!

Ja Ne!

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi there, Nodoka here.

I've been delighted with the response my second chapter had, and thanks to all those who reviewed leaving their comments.

I hope that all of you who are enjoying what I've written continue to do so!

But no-one is here to read my ramblings, so on with the story.

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Repercussions - Chapter 3

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Shinobu was happily scrubbing dishes whilst Mutsumi put the dried ones away, a job that was not likely to over-exert the willing but often feeble lady. Motoko had travelled upstairs, presumably to get her gift. Su was hauling a self-crafted 'super-stereo system' from some mysterious alcove, while Haruka set out the traditional party nibbles that never really get nibbled. And in the midst of the activity, Naru sat like someone who had been slapped in the face with a moist fish, wielded by a clown dressed only in face-paint and a dainty mauve thong.

Yes.

Like that.

It wasn't that the girl didn't appreciate what Keitaro seemed to have done. But all the same, the anchor that had been tied around her neck for the whole day seemed to double in weight instantly. Suddenly, it wasn't just shame at forgetting something important. It was also disgust, disgust that she wasn't brave enough to come clean. Disgust that the one she'd let down had needed to come to her defence.

On top of it all was the sense that she now, well, _owed_ her boyfriend. And Naru didn't like being in debt to anyone, especially not someone male.

Working out of her angst, the caramel-eyed girl peered around the room, watching the others busily setting up for the approaching festivities.

"Su-chan, you fuse the electrics like last time and Molmol will wonder why their treasury is suddenly empty." Haruka grumbled, filling a dish with what may have been peanuts.

"No problemo Haruka! The super-sonic Mk. 5 (patent. pend.) is guaranteed to make ears bleed with just a fraction of its predecessor's power!" The hyperactive girl yelled, frantically connecting wires and plugs.

"Yes, but The super-sonic Mk. 4 (patent. pend.) needed more power than the whole of Kyoto."

"'S ok! We won't make the national news this time, promise!" Seeing Su heading for a large red switch marked 'ON', the other members of the room sensibly took cover behind the various sofas.

CLICK.

"Told you! The super-sonic Mk. 5 (patent. pend.) is perfect!" As hesitant heads peered from various hiding places, Su slipped a CD into one of the sixty-odd slots and pressed the big green button marked 'play'.

Tranquil jungle music filled the room, and the heads gradually re-appeared once again. The sight that greeted them was Su wearing a grin cheesier than week-old hiking socks.

"Sweet, it didn't explode!" Cue four simultaneous sweat drops. "So, let's get this party STARTED!" With that, the Molmolian twiddled a tiny knob set on top of the huge contraption.

Forty to one hundred and forty decibels in half a second.

It only took Shinobu two seconds to reach the dial and swing the volume down to below jet engine levels. It was the ringing of ears that put the party on hold for a while.

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"Why?"

"What do you mean, Kitsune-san?" Of all the things Keitaro expected, an honest question wasn't one of them.

"You know damn well what I mean. Naru ain't bought diddly-squat for your birthday, by all rights you shoulda let her swing. I'm sure as hell she'd have done it with the tables turned." Mitsune paced pensively, trying to piece things together. "First you spot her slinkin' off from the breakfast table at gift giving time. Then you hear her, well, slaggin' you off while admitting plain as day she didn't have anything. Now at the dinner table you go an' save her ass when she's about to cop it big-time." The silver-haired girl stopped and pinned her Kanrinin with a look. "If you're tryin' to mess with her head, I'm warning ya, stop it."

"No! It was nothing like that Kitsune-san, I swear!" Keitaro babbled, hands in the 'don't hit me' position.

"Then what is it like, Kei-kun? 'Cept from trying to make her feel more guilty, I can't see no reason for this." Mitsune dropped her tone to a murmur, looking at the hardwood floor. "'Sides, I doubt you could make her feel any more guilty. I feel kinda ashamed for forgettin' myself. What Naru's experiencin' must be millions times worse."

"She doesn't seem to be feeling guilty." Keitaro snapped his mouth shut, wishing he could suck the words back in like smoke rings. The last thing the man wanted was for anyone, least of all Mitsune, know he was actually hurt. Very hurt.

"Hmmmm?" This time it was the Kanrinin avoiding the fox-girl's gaze.

"Oh, nothing."

"Didn't sound like 'nothing' Kei-kun." Purred Mitsune, edging closer to the Kanrinin. "Sounded very much like something to me."

"…………" Keitaro wasn't prepared for the girl to gently tilt his chin up with a single finger, until grey met brown.

"Listen, Kei-kun. I know damn well that Naru is pretty broken up right now. You're not alone in that." The young man found himself unable to lie to the penetrating gaze.

"She isn't worried enough to apologise, though." He murmured. Mitsune shrugged, a slight frown marring her face.

"That's her pride taking control. We all know that." Keitaro laughed dryly.

"Then why do you need to ask why I did what I did?" At the fox's puzzled look, the Kanrinin pulled away slightly. "You know well as I do, Naru holds her pride sacred. To look a total fool in front of everyone would have smashed it to bits." The lightbulb above Mitsune's head lit.

"Ah. Now I getcha. Nice of ya to make the save." With a disparaging chuckle, Keitaro shook his head.

"I can't say there wasn't a selfish element to it." Opening her sake cupboard and reaching in, the party-girl frowned.

"Whadaya mean? I can't see what you'd get outta it."

"Well, when Naru's pride is wounded, she tends to get over it by wounding…..me." The quiet following that acerbic statement was broken by a bottle rattling across the floorboards.

Keitaro stood stock still, staring out the window.

Mitsune sat on her haunches, still gazing into the cupboard.

For a few seconds, silence.

"Keitaro….."

"Need a hand with any bottles, Kitsune-san?" The young woman looked up to see her friend stood with arms open, ready to receive her selection for the night. With a look on his face she knew far too well. One she wore every night when surrounded by only sake and memories.

When the open arms received a young woman at high speed rather than a handful of bottles, their owner was a little surprised. Moments later the woman in question was back to choosing sake whilst wondering where the hell that came from, and the man in question was wondering what on earth just happened, although he wasn't complaining. In fact part of his mind was politely enquiring if it could happen again, for longer perhaps.

"Uh, we'll take these two, that one, and that one." Mitsune briskly handed the bottles to Keitaro and bent down to pick up a couple more.

"No problem." The kanrinin turned to leave before a tremulous voice halted him.

"Just…..don't give up on her yet, Kei-kun. Please?" Keitaro turned slowly to face the suddenly pensive young lady, who was looking back at him with what seemed to be desperation. "She needs you more than you think, more than you'll ever know." The brown-haired man took a deep breath, one he let out slowly.

"Okay Kitsune-chan. I'll try my best." He gave the girl a gentle smile, one that set a thousand delicate butterflies loose in her stomach, before opening the door.

"Thanks Kei-kun." Murmured Mitsune, before she was left alone with her thoughts.

The young lady didn't like the bitter taste in her mouth. Or the slightly damp, shaking palms. Or the breath that hitched in her throat. The last time she'd had these sensations was quite a while ago.

When she'd given Seta to Naru…..

Mitsune shook herself, trying to dispel the unwanted thoughts. But the thought of her best, well, only male friend, looking and sounding so vulnerable had shaken her. The guy always seemed indestructible, unwavering. But the fox felt she'd glimpsed something that few people had. Beneath the layers of smiles was someone badly hurt.

Something in that struck a deep, deep chord within Mitsune.

"No. He's taken. She's my best friend. Forget it." The silver-haired girl muttered, picking her bottles off the ground and heading for the party.

A sonic boom nearly caused them to hit the ground again.

"What the hell?!" The girl shot through the door to find Keitaro a few paces down the hallway apparently catatonic whilst in a standing position. "Kei-kun, you alright?" The brown-haired man seemed to shake himself out of it, and gave her a grin.

"I think we've just been introduced to the The super-sonic Mk. 5 (patent. pend.)." He chuckled, idly wondering if his ears were bleeding.

"Another of Su's little creations?"

"Yeah. At least the windows survived this time, and we haven't blacked out half of Japan." Mitsune smiled.

"Thank heavens for small mercies, eh." She replied dryly, falling into step with Keitaro as they walked back to the lounge. "How do you know about that one?"

"Su needed her guinea pig." Seeing the fox-girl wince, he shook his head. "No, not that bad. Just a little advice on how to, shall we say, make things practical. Or in other words, how not to bring chaos to an area the size of Hong Kong."

"Maybe she's losing her edge." Keitaro rolled his hazel eyes, snorting with humour.

"I thought so too, until she decided to find out how much power it took to reach the human pain threshold. I wasn't intending to ignore everyone that day; I just couldn't hear a word they were saying……" Mitsune giggled, a very un-Mitsune thing to do.

"Dye her hair red and add some foundation, then we'd have Washu on our hands, I swear." Her company laughed, enjoying the image.

"At least she hasn't started taking body fluid samples. The day that happens I'm out of here."

"How do you know she hasn't already?" Keitaro paused in mid-pace, his expression mortified.

"Now that's disturbing."

"Wouldn't put it past her." The two reached the stairs to find Su dancing happily to (thankfully only loud) music and four others doing goldfish impressions.

"Heyas Kitsune, Keitaros!" Pulling the sort of moves only seen in old-fashioned kung-fu movies with the ease of a master, Su dragged a surprised Keitaro into a dance that would normally put him into traction for six weeks, whilst an amused Mitsune placed the sake down on the table.

"IS THAT ALL OF IT KITSUNE-SAN?" The party animal jumped ten feet as Shinobu screamed in her ear from close range.

"Sheez, quieten down would ya?" Seeing the violet-haired girl looking puzzled, Mitsune made the universal 'ssssssshhh' gesture. After getting a sheepish nod in response the two returned to watching the entertainment.

What must have been twenty minutes later, the two finished with a spin cycle to put the most expensive of washing machines to shame. Su landed on tip-toes in the middle of the floor. Keitaro landed face-down on a sofa, trying his best to keep his dinner where it should be.

"Ara, you okay Kei-kun?" Mutsumi murmured, moving over to assist the birthday boy.

"Round of applause for Su-chan!" Crowed Mitsune, one everyone who could remember where their hands were joined in with.

"Thank you, thank you." The petite princess bowed gracefully, picking up the bouquet of flowers that someone had managed to conjure from somewhere.

"Sweet. Who's for drinks?" The drinker-turned-barmaid asked, to almost universal approval. (One of the room decided that the room was spinning enough already.)

"I get the feeling it's going to be one heck of a party." Naru murmured to herself, before going to get herself some sake. Pausing, the antennaed girl weighed up her options. She'd found in the past that alcohol helped time pass, helped pain ease for a while. Given the situation, the girl reasoned she needed all the painkillers she could get.

As Mitsune poured herself a drink and wandered off to change the CD, Naru quickly slugged back the glass of liquid and measured out another one. The sooner the ache went away the better.

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Eyes creaked open, and then slammed shut again as light assaulted them.

A few moments, and this time one eye crept open a fraction, enough to realise that no-one was shining a torch into them at close range. Gradually the lids parted fully, until they were staring at a quite familiar ceiling. Not one that was normally seen upon awaking, but familiar all the same.

After ascertaining that she was on a sofa in the front room, Naru tried to sit up. And regretted it very quickly.

Thankfully, someone had kindly placed a bowl at the side of her sofa for this eventuality.

Feeling wretched but oddly a little better, the brown-haired girl wiped her mouth with the back of her hand whilst peering blearily around. It was morning, probably. It was still snowing, judging by the whiteness on the window. And someone was sleeping on the couch opposite, complete with bowl at the ready. Given the pitch of the snores, the person was female.

And then the headache made itself known.

Groaning in pain, Naru reached around for her glasses. Not finding them in her vicinity, the girl quietly slid her feet out from beneath the blanket, and tried to stand.

Her stomach protested severely.

Wiping her mouth again and trying to ignore the urge to retch at the smell, the girl straightened gingerly. To top off the headache and dizziness her mouth felt like someone had done something very impolite in it, and her right hand seemed to be throbbing.

"Don't worry girl, it goes away." Came a slurred voice, and a bedraggled Mitsune appeared from the heap on the chair opposite. "Best go to bed, sleep it off….." The words slurred off, and soon after snores suggested the drunken girl was taking her own advice.

"Maybe." But, pacing into the kitchen, the hazel-eyed lady felt too uneasy. Why? Thinking back, Naru couldn't recall anything bad happening. She'd been having a giggly drink with her best friend about half-ten, and then…..she must have fallen asleep.

So why the gnawing feeling, the sense of impending doom?

Shrugging off the ominous mood as a side-effect of the alcohol, she peered blearily up at the clock while drinking a glass of water. Nine fifteen. Not really a time to go back to bed, but studying was out. Shrugging, Naru decided the time was best spent recuperating, preferably with a hot bath.

After a not-so-quick trip up the stairs, the young lady entered the bath in her dressing gown. Disrobing she began to scrub, but pain in her right hand caused her to pause. Looking closely, she noticed some bruising and swelling of the flesh beneath her little finger. Clenching her hand into a fist caused a hiss of pain to escape between gritted teeth.

"Damn, that hurts." Flexing her digits critically and very aware of the hammering going on in her head, Naru decided that she would forego the scrub-down and move straight to the main business. The girl slid open the door, only to find the springs not quite empty at this early hour.

"Oh! Good morning Shinobu-chan" The young housekeeper looked up.

"Naru-san." Came the cool reply. Slightly surprised, Naru slid into the hot water with a gasp as the headache intensified briefly. For a moment both sat quietly, watching the snow float to earth around them.

"Chilly this morning." The older girl commented, looking across at her junior.

"Mmmmm." Shinobu continued to pointedly watch the drifting flakes.

"Looks like it's falling lighter than yesterday."

"Yeah." In the awkward, edgy silence, Naru reached around for some kind of topic that might provoke a response.

"So, good party last night. Right?" Suddenly a violet gaze was burning into her fiercely.

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Came the angry reply. Confused, Naru felt herself trying to squeeze into the rock behind her, alarmed at the hostility radiating off the normally timid girl opposite.

"I, uh, just mean it was a good party….." The brunette trailed off as Shinobu's expression hovered between incredulous and furious.

"Good? What the f-" The girl seemed to shake herself before suddenly rising from the water. "I think I'm clean enough. Bye, Naru-san." With that Shinobu made her way out of the bath quickly, not looking back as she shut the door a little too firmly behind her.

"Wha?" Naru could only look at the closed door in shock. Suddenly feeling worse than ever, she sank up to her nose in the hot water, wondering what the hell had made Shinobu act like that.

At which point she began to wonder if more happened the night before than she recalled. As the potential horror stories ran through Naru's head, she resolved to find out the truth.

The brown eyed girl was soon to find out that horror stories are often easier to handle than their true counterparts.

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The room was way too light, in Mitsune's opinion. Whoever turned the sun on this morning was going to get a piece of her mind.

"Kitsune-san?" Snuggling back under her blanket, the fox-girl waved a dismissive hand.

"Shinobu-chan, it's way too early. Go back to bed." Suddenly the warmth disappeared, as she found the blanket whisked off her.

"It's almost midday. Time you let someone else have a seat." Came the brisk reply.

"Hey, whadaya do that for?" Growled the fox, sitting up quickly. Any anger the girl might have had instantly vanished – the combination of hangover and a slightly red-eyed glare from someone who never frowned at anyone was more than enough warning.

"Lunch won't be long. Please let the others know." The cook said, heading back towards the kitchen.

"Will do." Called Mitsune. "Oh, and thanks for the blankets, much appreciated." Shinobu shrugged as she walked away.

"I didn't do it; I was in bed before you passed out." A door rattling shut ended the conversation effectively.

"What's gotten her panties in a bunch this mornin'?" Muttered the irritated girl, heading up to her room to change. Although muzzy headed the fox-girl was in a much better state than Naru, being a veteran of too many benders to count. But, like her friend, something in her head was warning her that something wasn't quite right.

It wasn't the first time the silver-blonde had given herself amnesia, and it was a sensation the girl really, really hated.

Whenever she couldn't remember what had transpired the night before, it always meant that something dreadful, or at least dreadfully embarrassing took place. Usually because she was, to put it politely, shit-faced.

And the morning after such an event someone in the household would always come up to her, smile a knowing smile, and ask her politely 'do you remember last night?'

This apparently innocent query was inevitably followed by a cringe-inducing recount of whatever idiocy she had managed to perform whilst totally trollied, sometimes complete with diagrams.

It wasn't so much that the incidents in question were particularly awful, or that eventful. It was the knowledge that, yet again, she had embarrassed herself, let her demons get the better of her.

Bye-bye self-respect.

"Never, ever again." The young lady promised herself, knowing in her heart of hearts it was just empty words. She would be back in the bottom of a bottle by the end of the week, as always.

"Good morning Kitsune-san." Lost in self-recrimination, the girl had almost walked straight into the resident Okinawan. Who was looking far too fresh for Mitsune's liking.

"Mornin' Mutsumi-san." The brown-haired lady gazed serenely at the fox's bedraggled appearance with a hand on her chin.

"Did you sleep well? I hope the blankets we put over the two of you were warm enough."

"Yeah, thanks a bunch." Mitsune scratched the back of her head whilst yawning until a thought hit her. "Two of us?"

"Yes. Naru-san also." At this, a look of gentle disappointment displaced the normally ever-present smile. "Do you not recall what happened?" A deep feeling of worry began gnawing in the freeloader's stomach.

"Yeah, well, to the point where me an' Naru were havin' a drinkin' contest….." The worry was superseded by panic in an instant. "A drinkin' contest, with _Naru_? Shit, how far gone must she have been?"

"Quite considerably, I believe. I must admit, I consumed a few glasses myself and then underwent one of my little episodes, when I came around the room was quite peaceful. I assisted Kei-kun in placing blankets over you and Naru-san before making my own way to bed."

Mutsumi was adept at many things, but bare-faced lying wasn't one of them, Mitsune noted. The Okinawan was idly wringing the hem of her green shirt with her eyes focussed somewhere over the fox-girl's left shoulder, while the speech sounded far too rehearsed. However, Mitsune decided against pressing, as there was bound to be someone else willing to part with their knowledge without a fight. Or come right up to her and delight in every second of their tale.

"Well, lunch is on the way. I'm going upstairs to tell Kei-kun." Shaking her head a little to clear it, the fox was half-way to the Kanrinin's door when Mutsumi's voice halted her.

"Don't bother knocking for him, he went out in the snow to get some supplies to repair the living room wall."

"Oh, okay." Mitsune replied, deciding to instead go and call Motoko, to see if she had any answers. She was almost to the swords woman's door before her mind caught up with her.

"Repair what?!"

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Mitsune's ill ease was borne out further when, after Naru was blanked by Shinobu at lunch, Haruka took her aside for a 'quick word'. When the word turned out to be several words, and some of them less than quick, the fox decided afterwards to lay low. She hadn't been able to get much out of Haruka, but man was the café owner pissed. The older woman had also seen fit to remind Mitsune that she wasn't her soft-hearted nephew, and that she may not put up with many further repeats 'of last night's performance'.

The fox had decided against asking for a programme of events.

So, whilst slinking around the Hinata-sou, the silver fox had been the first to see Keitaro return. By which time it was almost twilight and the room was as dim as the leaden skies outside.

"Whew. Don't want to go out again in that." Brushing numerous snowflakes off his coat, the kanrinin quickly hung it on peg beside the door. However he drew his scarf more tightly around his chin, obviously still cold. "Well, guess I should get to work."

"Work?" The young man jumped as Mitsune slipped out of the shadows.

"Eh, hi Kitsune-san. Gotta fix up one of the living room walls." Hefting a number of planks under his arm, Keitaro gestured to a dinner-plate sized hole at about head height. The lady beside him measured up the hole, and then measured up her options. If there was one person she could count on to not mock the hell out of her for asking the question, it was her Kanrinin.

"Kei-kun, how did the hole get here? I don't remember….." The fox-girl watched a succession of expressions flicker across Keitaro's face, each one too fast to follow.

"Ah, it was nothing. Things just got a bit rowdy, that's all." Opening his tool kit, the man measured up the hole and got out his tools.

"Rowdy. Right." Mitsune watched idly as Keitaro began skilfully sawing a plank of wood into the correct lengths. It was only after he had finished and wiped the sweat off his brow that Mitsune noticed there was quite a lot of wood and not a very big hole. "You plannin' on makin' a bench, Kei-kun? You got enough there for thirty of these holes."

"Yeah, thought I may as well pick up more than I need." Drawing his scarf tight again, Keitaro placed his tools away and picked up the remaining lumber. "There's always fresh holes being made around here anyway. Better to be prepared." Still perspiring after the exertion, the Tokyo-U student locked his toolkit and prepared to set off.

"Kei-kun, why-?"

"Ah, Urashima-san." Motoko broke in, striding to the top of the stairs. "I trust that you have not forgotten out arrangement? If you are not in your room within two minutes, I will have to consider you late." The willowy young woman laid a casual hand on the hilt of her sword. "Discipline does not merely apply to students. I feel that any tardiness would have to be redressed by suitable……punishment." As the tone of voice dropped from polite to chilly, Mitsune and Keitaro both felt themselves shudder involuntarily.

"Be right up, Motoko-san." The lady on the stairs nodded at her tutor's response, raven hair shimmering in the bright corridor light behind her.

"See that you are, Urashima-san. I do not tolerate ill discipline well." The rate at which the kanrinin of the Hinata-sou hurried up the stairs suggested he knew this with the utmost certainly.

"Mitsune-san, I know it is meaningless to say this to you again, but again I shall say it." Giving the semi-sober girl a piercing look that she couldn't hope to ignore, Motoko continued in a quiet but authoritative tone. "I tolerate trickery and deception far less well than I do ill discipline. Do pay heed to my warning." With that, the swords woman turned on her heel and made her way down the hallway. Mitsune stayed rooted to the spot, mind whirling.

Something just wasn't adding up to her, not at all. There was something a little, well, actually quite a lot wrong with the last few minutes. But she just couldn't put her finger on it.

Lost in thought, Mitsune idly gazed at the kitchen door. Shinobu was still not acting normally, and although she had allowed Mutsumi entry to help preparing ingredients for tomorrow the fox-girl sincerely doubted she would be so welcome. Whatever was going on in there, it was certainly energetic. Shadows were repeatedly obscuring the light which sneaked through the gap at the foot of the door, one Keitaro hadn't gotten around to re-fitting.

The busty lady stared blankly at the shadows for a few more seconds before heading quickly for the stairs, an idea forming in her mind.

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Inside the kitchen, there was a blur of activity.

To be specific, one blur. A violet-haired blur, who was cooking with an intensity that was starting to concern her older assistant.

"Shinobu-chan, you'll cut yourself if you're not careful." Mutsumi murmured as a carrot was chopped at near light speed.

"It's okay Mutsumi-san. I'm always careful." Came the throwaway reply as the sixteen-year-old nearly took her own wrist off with a particularly vicious piece of knifework.

"Ara, that was too close." Seeing the blade pause for a moment whilst the chef bent down to gather more ingredients, the Okinawan grasped the younger girl by the shoulders firmly.

"Please let go, Mutsumi-san." Shinobu gritted through clenched teeth, a bag of rice tightly grasped in both hands.

"Not until you slow down." Came the reply, firm as the anaemic lady could manage. A moment passed, and the shoulders she grasped seemed to relax.

"Okay, I'm slowed. Please get off?" Suddenly, Shinobu's voice was nothing more than a meek whisper, her grasp on the knife so loose that it dangled aimlessly from her fingers. Mutsumi did not let go, although her grip eased.

"Shinobu-chan, you need to talk to him about this." Ever so gently, the shoulders beneath the kindly lady's hands began to shake.

"I can't, Mutsumi-san. He's got enough going on, he doesn't need to know." Pulling he younger girl into a gentle embrace, the Okinawan whispered softly in her ear.

"You're right, he doesn't." Gently turning Shinobu around, Mutsumi was unsurprised to see tears sliding unchecked down the girl's cheeks. This had been coming for a while, and the events of the previous night had had a bigger effect on the bright but vulnerable cook than almost anyone else. "But don't you think he would want to know?" Trembling slightly, Shinobu stared at the ground.

"But he'll feel so guilty, I don't want that."

"He cares for all of us, just like we do for him. Well, most of us at least." Mutsumi brushed some of the wetness from Shinobu's face. "Go and see him. Let him worry about you the way he'd want to. You'll feel better." Pushing Shinobu gently in the direction of the door, the mild-mannered lady gave her a small smile. "I'll handle the dinner. It may not be as good as yours would, but some things are more important."

"Ah, um….." The violet-haired girl wiped her eyes gingerly, and then straightened up. "Okay, I'll go now. Thanks, Mutsumi-san." As Shinobu scurried out of the door, Mutsumi allowed her expression to could over a little.

It was easy saying such things to Shinobu. And the Okinawan held nothing against Keitaro either. But forgiveness was not always as forthcoming from the ever-cheery lady as everyone seemed to think.

Although they didn't know it, it was going to take some time before Naru and Mitsune were going to get any from her.

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Shinobu paused for breath at the top of the stairs, gathering herself. Mutsumi was right, she had to admit. Much as she didn't want to trouble her sempai, she had to get her feelings off her chest.

Besides, Keitaro wasn't just her sempai. He was her Kanrinin, her friend, her…..first love.

And the young girl couldn't take the current situation much longer. It was all far too familiar.

Taking a deep breath, she started down the corridor to Keitaro's room. As she approached, she saw a curious sight. Mitsune was bent at right-angles at the waist, like some kind of inverted 'L' next to the Kanrinin's room. She was perfectly still, and had her head cocked as if listening to something. Giving up on trying to figure out what the hell the fox was doing, Shinobu decided to instead ask her.

"Kitsune-san, why are you hovering outside Sempai's door?" The woman in question jumped ten feet in the air and spun around with wide eyes. The gazes locked momentarily, and in the background a faint sound could be heard. That of a sword being drawn.

Mitsune summed up the situation concisely.

"Oh shit."

With that the door almost exploded outwards, and the silver-blonde took off at a full sprint. From the dust and debris sprang Motoko, who proceeded to give chase with promises of pain in her eyes. Blinking slowly in surprise, Shinobu moved to room 204 in time to see Keitaro appraise the remains of his door with a sad shake of the head.

"I'm certainly glad I picked up extra at the shop." Glancing up, the Kanrinin smiled at the violet-haired girl. "Hi Shinobu-chan." Suddenly feeling the need to either run off or use the lavatory, Shinobu steeled herself.

"Sempai, can I talk to you? It's to do with last night….." Keitaro's expression turned quickly to concern.

"Sure. I would invite you in, but our discussion wouldn't exactly be private." The man put a hand to his chin, thinking. "How about we go up to the roof? There won't be anyone there, especially with the snow."

"Why not my room?" Shinobu asked suddenly.

"Uh, well, people might get the wrong idea." For some reason, the answer incensed the young girl beyond belief.

"I don't care. If they want to get the wrong idea, they'll have to go through me first. Okay?" As Keitaro seemed to weigh the idea up, Shinobu found her hands reach out of their own accord and grasp the arm of her sempai tightly. "Please, Keitaro-san?"

The use of his real name made Keitaro's mind up for him.

"Lead the way Shinobu-chan."

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Well, close to a cliffie as I ever get!

Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

'Till next time.

Ja ne.

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	4. Chapter 4

It's Nodoka again.

If I was surprised by the response to chapter 2, chapter 3 had me completely stunned.

It also resulted in me being called a variety of names, which I take as a complement...

Thanks to all the reviewers, and to sweet heavens for the useful feedback.

This chapter is a little longer, and it gives quite a few answers. And some more questions...

Hope you enjoy it.

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Repercussions – Chapter 4.

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As Mitsune ran like hell from certain death, she still found time to run through the snatch of conversation that she had overheard before her subterfuge was well and truly exposed by a well-meaning Shinobu.

Nothing firm was said, but all the same the suspicions of the fox-lady were well and truly confirmed. More than studying was going on in that room.

The girl took her courage in her hands, and reasoned that there was no point being a fox on the run. Motoko could catch her as and when she pleased, any pursuit was nothing more than playing the game. So, after turning onto a blank-ended corridor somewhere on the top floor, she decided to engage the swords woman.

With words. A duel Mitsune believed she could win, especially with her opponent angry.

Whilst the heir to the Shinmei-ryu was a smart lady, she lacked the fox-girls experience in the art of conversation.

Steeling herself she stopped and turned, in time to see Motoko stalk around the corner. Mitsune's nerve very nearly failed her; the swords woman looked more intimidating now than she had ever seen her before. Dark eyes narrowed and predatory, aura rippling with quietly controlled menace, seemingly standing taller than ever. It was only the sure knowledge that Motoko would never draw her sword against an unarmed opponent (barring immortal landlords of course) that allowed her to control her bladder.

"Mitsune-san. Did I not warn you of the consequences of such actions?" The raven-haired lady paced evenly towards her target with the manner of one who knows victory is at hand. "And yet you wish to push the boundaries, and my patience." Laying a slender hand on the hilt of her ever-present katana, Motoko moved to within striking distance of her adversary. "Do you really wish to discover what punishments my clan have passed down through generations for people who act in such a despicable manner?" Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat and praying her bottom lip wasn't trembling, Mitsune tried to respond defiantly.

"You wouldn't." As far as defiance went, that effort was crap. Her voice was somewhere between a squeak and a warble, and shaking even more than her hands. Damn, Motoko could be scary when she wanted to be.

"Oh, I would." To Mitsune's horror, the kendoist began to draw her sword.

That wasn't in the script, the fox-girl told herself.

"Wouldn't keep me silent though, would it?" The Hina blade halted mid-way out of its saya, and internally Mitsune gave a long gasp of relief.

"Silent?" Motoko arched an elegant eyebrow. "What, pray tell, would you have heard for me to require your silence?"

"Enough." Stated the silver-haired girl, with a little more confidence now the edged weapon wasn't getting any closer to being used on her.

"State what you know." Deciding not to push her luck, Mitsune complied.

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The fox-girl could have kicked herself. It was so simple, how her apparently flawless voyeurism was being defeated.

One thing that had fuelled her suspicions when the study sessions began was that it was always so dim in Keitaro's room. Apart from the lamp on the table there was no other lighting, which gave the setting a very intimate feel. The fox had assumed that there was no good reason for this other than to make things romantic.

It turned out there was a very good reason.

Also, because it had no windows, the corridor outside the room was always lit by a single bulb. Very brightly lit in fact.

So brightly lit that anyone stood in it cast a very clear silhouette.

Therefore, every time she (or Naru, of course) went to eavesdrop she would stand with her back to a bright light in front of Keitaro's door, and the room within was dark.

This meant that it was blindingly obvious to anyone looking at the tiny crack at the foot of the Kanrinin's' door from within that something, or more accurately someone, was casting a shadow in the hallway.

Devious indeed. The fox-girl had once idly wondered why the door was forever repaired with the same small flaw. A certain someone was brighter than she had ever given credit for.

Hence Mitsune was arched over, keeping her ear at the doorway's edge whilst the rest of her was out of sight. And judging by the conversation within, her hunch was correct.

"Anyone there, Motoko-san?" Came a male voice, sounding very formal.

"I have not detected anyone's presence, Urashima-san." Was the reply, equally formal. "I believe Naru is in the springs, she has been there for much of the day. Possibly mulling over the events of last night."

"Please. I'd rather not have to remember." Suddenly the formality was gone, as the kanrinin continued in a relaxed tone. "So, Motoko-chan, what do you think?" A few seconds of silence, and then Motoko's voice came through the door quietly.

"Hmmmmm. Kei-kun, I'm afraid this problem might be in excess of my abilities." A defeated sigh followed.

"It's okay Motoko-chan. You can't solve everything, not without more resources than we have." Mitsune, bored stiff, decided that joining Naru as usual would be a good plan. So Motoko and Keitaro were more familiar than they let on. Big deal. Might score a few bottles of sake, but no good for anything else.

"But I feel so useless sometimes. You're helping me achieve my dreams, but when it comes to this it seems I can't help you..." The fox's ears pricked. What was Motoko talking about? What could she be 'helping' her manager with? Trying to ignore a list of perversions that suddenly sprang up in her head, Mitsune listened carefully.

"You're doing a fantastic job. I have to admit hoping we wouldn't need to use the gifts and skills you gave me so soon, and even though we have it's not quite enough." There was the sound of movement, and then Keitaro's voice continued in a lighter tone. "It's fine. If this is beyond our abilities, I know a couple of specialists on the subject. They can sort this problem out. Besides, you have to look really, really close to see it." The silver-blonde nearly choked on fresh air.

"Very well, Kei-kun. If you require assistance at any point, I would be very glad to oblige. You know my hands are both skilled and gentle." By this point the 'hentai' centre in Mitsune's brain was jumping up and down, waving flags and blowing trumpets. Although there was nothing, really, in the conversation to indicate this was the whole truth, the fox found it was much more fun to assume foul play was involved until proven otherwise.

"Thank you, Motoko-chan. So, shall we?" The fox leant in a little closer, eagerly listening...

"Kitsune-san, why are you hovering outside Sempai's door?"

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"I think you know the rest." During Mitsune's recollection Motoko seemed to have calmed somewhat, to the degree that she didn't appear imminently poised to kill the fox-girl. All the same, the fox quickly scanned for escape routes. Nope, just varnished wooden walls and a couple of doors on the far side of the one with the katana.

"Indeed."

"So what were you two doin'? Sounded kinda furtive to me." The swords woman measured her with a look.

"What we were doing, Mitsune-san, is no business of yours." Mitsune raised her eyebrows at the suddenly defensive tone.

"No business, hmmmmm? Sounds like I might kinda want to make it my business." The silver-haired girl assumed a mock-thinking poise, finger on her chin. "Kei-kun getting somethin' back from the tutoring deal. He gives her knowledge; she gives him thanks in ways only she knows how." Leering slightly, Mitsune began ticking the residents off on her fingers. "Come to think of it, I'm sure Naru would be interested in this one, Mutsumi an' Shinobu too. Heck, Haruka an' Su maybe, although probably not the same kinda interest." Catching Motoko's eye, the fox was surprised to find her little speech hadn't had the anticipated effect.

The idea was: threaten Motoko with disclosure, Motoko gives in, spills beans, Mitsune pledges secrecy, then lets slip at opportune moment or uses knowledge for free rent.

The outcome was: Motoko reaching for her sword again, looking somewhere between furious and livid.

"To think you would stoop so low as to attempt to blackmail a woman of honour." The kendoist strode right up to Kitsune, until the two were face-to-face. The fox-girl swallowed hard as the taller woman glared down at her from barely inches away. "However, it is this honour that also ties my hands." Motoko ground out, in barely a whisper.

"Wha-what are you on about?" Bending down slightly so she was eye-to-eye with the fox, the swords woman continued.

"It would give me undeniable gratification to spoil the views some people here have on their little world, and the effects some actions can have. I myself had such a revelation but months ago, and I now thank my sister wholeheartedly for what was at the time a painful learning experience. But I have made my promise, and am bound to it until release or death, whichever may arrive first." With that the elegant lady took a step back, still staring deep into Mitsune's eyes.

"Um….." The silver-blonde stumbled mentally, utterly confused. "A promise? What kind of promise?"

"One I regret making." Came the quiet reply. "But that is not relevant to you at present. I believe it is time for your punishment." To the fox's heart-stopping horror, the Hina blade was unsheathed with a menacing 'shhhhhing' that did cause the terrified woman to momentarily do something she thought she'd learnt not to do quite a long time ago.

"P-please Motoko-sama, d-don't kill me!" Backing away until her posterior struck wood, Mitsune shielded herself with her arms, awaiting the first strike.

"Kill you?" At the sound of polite amusement the sliver-blonde head peeked over her raised hands to see Motoko regarding her with a broad smile. "What on earth brought you to that conclusion?

"Uhhh, well, it's kinda what you always said before you nail Keitaro. You know, prepare to die, an' all that." Briefly Motoko's grin drooped, before returning.

"Our Kanrinin is an exceptional case; your punishment need not be that severe. Nonetheless, I believe it is one that may dissuade you from continuing with your unfortunate habit." With that the swords woman pulled the fox-girl towards her, and bent down onto one knee...

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Outside, in the hot springs, Haruka paused mid-sentence at the sound of thumping.

"Hmmm. Sounds like someone is airing out the carpets." Mutsumi nodded, as a yelping filled the air in rhythm with the thumps.

"Ara, it seems that the carpets aren't enjoying the experience." The coffee shop owner took a long drag on her cigarette, before blowing out the smoke with obvious enjoyment.

"Well, sometimes carpets need to learn not to spy on Motoko."

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It was a good thing that Shinobu had demanded her room be the destination for their discussion, as the Keitaro's idea, the roof, would not have provided the two with the privacy desired.

Naru shifted into a more comfortable position, disturbing the snow gathering on her scarlet hood. It wasn't lost on the girl that she was wearing the coat given to her by the one who probably caused her turmoil.

For many residents the roof was a place to go and think, and Naru was no exception. Instinct told her something was wrong. And the cursed throbbing of her right hand just added to the feeling of unease. Judging by the rainbow of bruising that was spreading yet further, the girl suspected she might have broken it.

Also the knowledge of where it appeared broken caused considerable disquiet. She remembered coming across this type of injury before - known as a 'boxer's fracture' – breaking the bone in the palm beneath the little finger. It was known by this name for good reason; people generally got it when they punched something, albeit often with the wrong technique.

Naru reasoned that you have to do more than punch something awkwardly. You'd have to hit it bloody hard as well.

This wasn't an injury you get by falling over.

All of which was beginning to lead Naru to the conclusion she had hit something very hard, but messed it up because of the alcohol.

Which means Keitaro.

The brunette began to breathe a sigh of relief as she idly scuffed some snow off the edge of the roof with a slippered foot. So she'd bashed Keitaro due, no doubt, to some perversion or other. Something that took place every few days anyway. No big deal, right?

This was where the relief halted. Keitaro had been absent all day. Nothing hugely unusual there. But Shinobu blowing her off and then nearly blowing her top, Mutsumi avoiding her and Haruka giving her the sort of glare normally reserved for drunken tramps weren't so normal. Yes, Shinobu had been a little narky off and on recently, something Naru put down to the girl growing up. But to her knowledge, the violet-haired girl had never been aggressive. Mutsumi was normally as sociable as a bee in a hive, whilst Haruka never, ever looked at anyone with more than indifference.

All through the day the girl had found herself seemingly ostracised, and she wanted, no, needed to find out what the hell was going on.

"Is that you, Naru-chan?" Maybe she could get some answers now.

"Hai, Mutsumi-chan." The mahogany-haired lady strolled out onto the snow-covered roof, drawing her aquamarine coat more tightly around her as she shivered gently.

"Ara, it is certainly colder tonight if you have just left the hot water." She murmured, joining Naru in leaning against the waist-high railings, and staring out into the darkness. "Every time I'm in those springs I wonder why on earth it is so hot, yet when I leave I wonder why on earth the rest of the world is so cold." Brushing snow from her shoulders, Naru decided to just come out and ask the question.

"Mutsumi, how did-"

"Your hand get that way?" Finished the Okinawan, still gazing out into the night.

"Well, yeah." Seeing her fellow Tokyo-U student apparently disinterested in the question, she tried again. "I'm not sure, but I'm reckoning it was Keitaro up to his usual tricks. Just hurt myself in the process, that's all."

"Mmmmm." Replied Mutsumi ambiguously, still apparently engrossed in thoughts of her own. Naru could feel her ire, stoked by anxiety, beginning to rise.

"So? That was what happened, right?" Slowly the Okinawan turned to regard her friend, and Naru's heart plummeted. First Haruka looking cross, now Mutsumi looking sad? The hazel-eyed girl half expected to hear four horsemen coming over the horizon.

"Naru-san, why must you always assume the worst of Kei-kun?" Missing the bitter inflection in her friend's voice, the young lady responded without a thought.

"He's a man. That means he's a pervert. Simple, really." Mutsumi gently shook her head.

"Really? Do you really think that about all men?" The response was a firm nod.

"Yes. Simplest and safest way of dealing with them." The Okinawan gazed at Naru with something approaching shock.

"Do you honestly think...?" Breaking off at the steadfast expression of her friend, Mutsumi sighed. "Well, I see your mind is made. But please take my advice and reconsider, Naru-san. It may be a 'safe' path to follow, but it is also a lonely one." Annoyed, the honey-haired girl waved a dismissive hand.

"The perverted way of men isn't what I'm concerned with right now, Mutsumi-chan." Naru held up a bruised palm. "It's how exactly I got this. So what happened, he try to grope me, or hit on Kitsune when she was out of it?"

"Funny you should say that, Naru-san. If my memory serves me correctly, it did involve Kitsune." Seeing a look of triumph dawning on her colleague's face, the girl continued quickly. "I believe it was about midnight, by which time Motoko was in bed and far too many bottles of sake had been consumed. The moment things started going wrong, I believe, was when Kitsune decided to goose Kei-kun..."

"Goose?!"

"Grope, feel up, however you want to put it. She was horribly drunk at the time, which probably was why her hands wandered further than maybe they should have. Around the front so to speak." Blushing slightly, the Okinawan cleared her throat. "Anyhow, you did not take kindly to such a vulgar display with children present. Also perhaps the fact Kei-kun wasn't running away didn't help either."

"So he was being a pervert!" Mutsumi frowned slightly.

"If you call enjoying someone attractive paying you some very intense attention perverted, then I guess so." Tapping fingers against the railing, the quiet lady pressed on. "I'm not saying it was right, mind you. In any case, you seemed to snap when Kitsune moved in for a kiss – you screamed 'pervert', pulled Kitsune away and hit him."

"Oh, I see." Naru muttered, feeling the first stirrings of shame. When it was put that way, it didn't seem quite so cut-and-dried.

"To be honest, he looked quite scary when he got up." It seemed the story was not over. "I think that he had had a few more drinks than usual, but unlike a couple of others who will remain nameless he could still stand up without support." Seeing Naru flinch at the not-so-concealed swipe, Mutsumi felt a twinge of what could only be called pleasure.

Unlike her though it was, the young lady was out for revenge. The revenge she felt Keitaro was owed but would never collect. Hence her feigned ignorance to Mitsune earlier that day – she wanted to be the one to deliver this news to Naru, in the way she saw fit.

"Anyhow, a bit of an argument broke out, one that became quite loud and intense. It wasn't pleasant listening at times, and I must say that much of the unpleasantness did not come from Kei-kun. In the end Haruka threw a cup of sake over the two of you, which ended the argument quite effectively."

"Oh my." Feeling the pit of shame opening up rapidly below her, Naru began to absently clean her glasses. This wasn't a simple spat as she had hoped. "I'm going to have to apologise to Haruka."

"I fear that more than one may need to hear your apologies. Shinobu was most upset; she was crying her eyes out the poor dear. Kei-kun made to go after her when she ran off but you stopped him, said he was going to take advantage of the situation. He wasn't too pleased at that either. Well, one thing led to another and you took a huge swing at him. However, things did not quite go to plan, which is how you got your injury." Finished Mutsumi, who was once again staring out into the darkness, cheery smile still well and truly absent.

"Ah." Feeling oddly numb, the hazel-eyed girl asked the only question that she could think of. "What do you mean, didn't go to plan?"

The Okinawan blinked slowly, before a tiny grin slipped onto her mouth.

"Well, Kei did something he doesn't normally do."

"Which was?"

"Duck." Mutsumi turned away from the darkness, looking back to the house. "You put your fist straight through the wall. After that things finished up pretty quickly." This wasn't actually the case, but Mutsumi felt no desire to go into more detail.

"Oh. Uh, well, seems I've got a lot of apologising to do." Muttered Naru whilst wringing her hands tightly, almost enjoying the pain her grip was creating. The brown-eyed girl couldn't help but feel she deserved it.

"You have." With that, the Okinawan began to make her way back to open doorway. "Please do bear in mind, Naru-san, what we touched on earlier. Kei-kun is no pervert, and to believe that of everyone could make your life a very quiet one."

"Maybe things are as you say, Mutsumi-san. But I have my reasons." As her friend passed out of sight, Naru suddenly felt very, very alone. The roof seemed a far colder place than when she first came out. "Perhaps if you knew my reasons, you might understand my caution." The young lady murmured into the silence, before deciding to head inside and begin working on her penance. The only difficulty was where to start...

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Keitaro fought the urge to shiver as Shinobu let him into her room. Normally entering any of his tenant's rooms was asking for trouble. Especially this one.

As the youngest member of the Hinata-sou, Naru and Motoko had always been strongly protective of the violet-eyed girl. With good reason, as her youthfulness was matched by innocence. For Keitaro to set foot in the room without a chaperone would be considered nothing less than suicide. Even though he and Motoko had come to understand each other much better, the swords woman would still keep up her 'pervert-bashing' duties when required. It was something agreed on by the two of them when that fateful meeting had taken place a few months ago...

"Sempai, please come in." Realising he had stalled at the threshold to the room; Keitaro slipped nervously through the doorway and shut it firmly behind him. Although normally the Kanrinin would have taken a few moments to drink in the delicate blue shading of his young tenant's wallpaper or the floral designs adorning the furniture, on this occasion all attention was fixed on the morose girl stood pensively next to her table.

"Shinobu-chan….." The girl in question dropped her gaze, fingers tugging nervously at her shoulder-length hair.

"Sempai, I wanted to talk about last night." Shinobu paused, trying to work out what to say. Movement out of the corner of her eye turned her focus back to her Kanrinin.

Who was, to her shock, down on both knees before her with his forehead pressed to the ground.

"I can't apologise enough, Shinobu-chan." Keitaro murmured, eyes firmly closed. "I lost my temper and upset you badly, which is something I won't forgive myself for. It was inexcusable, and I will accept any punishment you see fit." Seeing the submissive posture, Shinobu was suddenly whisked back to the morning before.

"…_.if you want to yell, or let Naru or Motoko perform some suitable punishment, I'll understand."_

Reaching out a cautious hand as she had the day before, Shinobu again watched the prostrated man brace himself. At the unconscious display of fear, Shinobu felt her heart clench in shame. This wasn't right, not at all.

Yesterday morning, the fault hadn't been his. And last night, well, he was drawn into the fight. But he didn't start it, or deserve what Naru had said to him. Still, he was taking the blame, and offering himself up for punishment. Believing himself guilty by default, all because of living with her and the others. The shame swelled to unimaginable levels, agony increasing every second that Keitaro spent patiently awaiting her judgement.

They had done this to him. _She_ had done this to him.

Something in Shinobu snapped.

"Oooof!" One hundred pounds of emotional young lady knocked Keitaro flat onto his back, taking him by surprise. Feeling him tense beneath her reflexively, the violet-haired girl began sobbing gently as she gripped tightly onto his shirt.

"S-sempai….." Slowly, with the utmost hesitancy, a pair of arms wrapped around her. The tentative way she was held only served to make the girl feel worse.

"What is it, Shinobu-chan?" The brown-haired man asked whilst trying to work out why, for the second time in twenty-four hours, he had his hands full of someone who wasn't his girlfriend.

"I'm sorry Sempai, so sorry….." Came the hiccuped response. For a moment Keitaro puzzled over the response, before gently trying to ease the upset girl off him. Her response was to hold on tighter.

"Uh, Shinobu, someone might come in….." Suddenly the man found himself face-to-face with eyes that were both tearful and angry.

"I don't care. You hear me, Sempai? I. Don't. Care!" The diminutive girl punctuated each word with a thump of his chest, water beginning to spill over onto her cheeks. "I'm the one who grabbed you! If someone wants to argue, they can take it up with me!"

"Um, well…..They generally don't ask who jumped who….." Shinobu's head drooped slowly, slowly releasing her grip on her sempai.

"I'm sorry. I thought you cared about me enough look past yourself when I needed you. Guess I was wrong." The downcast teenager tried to pull herself up, but found herself suddenly gripped tightly by the same hands that were moments before reluctant to touch her.

"I do, Shinobu-chan." Murmured Keitaro, feeling the corner of his eyes prickling. The young girl had no idea how hard those words hit home. "I really do, you mean more to me than you could ever know. You're more my family than any relatives I've got, except Haruka. I'm so selfish, never noticed the fighting was affecting anyone but myself." Shinobu pulled her head back in time to see a tear slip from between her Kanrinin's tightly closed lids.

"Please Sempai; I don't want you to blame yourself…..." Dashing his face with the back of his hand, Keitaro sighed deeply.

"There's no-one else to blame. I almost abandoned you when you needed me, what kind of friend does that?"

"But you didn't, Sempai. You're still here." Allowing herself to relax, the violet-eyed girl laid her head on her beloveds chest gently. After a few seconds of silence, she continued with a mellow tone. "You're scared, aren't you? I can feel you shaking, Sempai. But you won't let me go, not even when you're expecting pain as a result. And I know if Naru were to burst in here right now, you would try and shield me from both blame and punishment. I don't want that, Sempai. I want to stand up for you, like I wanted someone to stand up for me."

"To stand up for you?" Came the murmured reply.

"Yeah." Realising that Keitaro was probably not going to be comfortable flat on the floor with someone on top of him, Shinobu reluctantly eased off her Kanrinin and slowly stood. Looking down at the brown-haired man, the young lady wondered how it was she'd never really suspected before yesterday that the constant bickering was affecting him.

The red-rimmed, hooded eyes, the empty smile, the hollow cheeks. All staring her in the face now, yet only yesterday could she have sworn that Keitaro possessed none of them.

"Please, take a seat Sempai." Shinobu gestured to a blue two-seater sofa in a corner of the room, and the Kanrinin silently obeyed after tiredly easing himself up off the floor. Sitting down and half-sinking as the cushions seemed to absorb him, the brown-haired man barely noticed when Shinobu sat down beside him. With a closeness that would normally have him running for his life, or at least sweating profusely.

"Thanks, Shinobu-chan." Deciding that bravery was working well for her at the moment, the violet-eyed girl took her courage in both hands.

"Shinobu, Sempai. Just Shinobu." The girl fiddled with the buttons of her shirt, both anticipating and dreading the response. To make such a leap of faith was unlike the demure cook, but something within her had changed in the previous few minutes. Now she could only hope the leap wasn't misjudged, or that the landing was soft…..

"Then I guess that makes me just Keitaro, doesn't it Shinobu?" The young lady's head shot up so fast she nearly got whiplash. The object of her affection was looking back at her with the smallest of smiles on his lips. One that was completely genuine.

This time Keitaro was prepared for the physical assault. After a much more pleasant hug, the two settled down comfortably together to watch the still falling snow flutter out of the darkness. Shinobu had to resist the urge to whoop for joy – while hardly a proclamation of love; it did make what she saw as a significant step. Being called 'Shinobu-chan' all the time had, in her opinion, always served to emphasise the age difference between her and Keitaro. Plus, in her knowledge, Naru had never reached this level of trust with the man.

All of which was immensely gratifying. In her mind she pictured herself pulling down an eyelid and sticking her tongue out at a certain brown-haired girl, whose status in Shinobu's eyes was plummeting by the second.

_Hah! Take that, Naru!_

Keitaro on the other hand was just basking in the feeling of contentment. The knowledge that someone here, in the Hinata-sou, cared for him so deeply meant more to him than he would care to admit. The young man was not entirely sure what his feelings for the sweet young girl were, but love was definitely amongst them. Brotherly or something more was the real question that needed answering.

"Sem-Keitaro, sorry for making you worry last night. I just got a bit upset, and drank more sake than I should have….." Whispered Shinobu into the silence, dropping her eyes down to her lap. The arm wrapped around her shoulders gave her a quick squeeze.

"It's okay. You've got nothing to apologise for." The girl shook her head gently.

"But I over-reacted, I just want you to know why….." Keitaro sighed gently, still staring out into the darkness.

"I guessed that it was because you moved in here to get away from that kind of thing, right?" Hearing his friend's breath hitch momentarily, the Kanrinin knew he'd hit the mark.

"Yeah. They used to fight like cat and dog, it really got nasty at times, they even hit each other during the bad times. I would just hide in the kitchen and make dinner while trying to ignore the shouting. If I was present, I'd just be used to score points." The girl was surprised to find tears running down her face again; ones she didn't even know needed to be shed.

"I never knew it was that bad. And now you've got me and Naru giving you a repeat performance." Shinobu nodded gently, burying her face in the crook of Keitaro's arm.

"It's not as bad, not quite. But every time you get screamed at or beaten without any kind of explanation, it just takes me straight back. And now you're asking for it, telling me to hit you. It'll end up the same as my parents did." The timid voice paused, followed by a sniff.

"How did that end up?" Asked Keitaro, curiously.

"With one in hospital and one in prison." Was the whispered response. The Kanrinin swallowed hard at the sudden lump in his throat while drawing Shinobu more tightly to him. This complicated matters. If everything came out into the open, the normally meek girl was going to go absolutely bloody mental.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Shinobu. I'll try my best to sort things out before someone goes too far." He was unsure how the hell he was going to do it, but the brown-haired man resolved to try and stop the cycle soon. After seeing the effect it was having on the youngest resident…..

"Let me help, Keitaro. Please? They won't lay a finger on me, I can stop them in their tracks." Keitaro felt himself go cold at the thought of the diminutive young lady placing herself in the firing line, but a quick glance at the fierce determination burning in violet eyes told him that 'no' was not an option.

"Okay, Shinobu. But don't do anything dangerous, I couldn't stand you getting hurt." The girl smiled softly, and rested her head against the shoulder of her beloved. Saying she couldn't stand him getting hurt either would be a waste of breath. The two idly returned to watching the darkness and the few flakes of snow that still drifted through the night sky.

Keitaro briefly puzzled over his scrambled thoughts. What did he really feel for the girl cuddled contently up against him? What would happen when everything came to light? Most of all, what to do about Naru…..

The bespectacled man resolved to consider things later, and for the moment just enjoy a most rare thing at the Hinata-sou. Peace.

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Mutsumi smiled gently as she drew a tartan-styled blanket over the sleeping pair. The two were lucky, she mused, that she had found them rather than anyone else. She sincerely doubted that Mitsune, Naru or Motoko would have been quite as kind. Su, well, Su probably would have joined them.

Join them…..

Well, it was quite a big two-seater after all.

After a little nudging, the sleeping man found himself in a sandwich that would probably cause a high-grade fever or significant haemorrhage when he awoke. The gentle Okinawan's grin grew even larger as the other two shifted unconsciously in their slumber to accommodate her more easily.

Shinobu mumbling in her sleep drew Mutsumi's' attention, and she chuckled as the younger girl clutched more tightly onto Keitaro's' arm. _Guess I should keep a closer eye on her; she's growing up faster than I realised. _Although she didn't know exactly what had happened in the room before she entered, the lady guessed that the position the two were in meant that they were more comfortable with each other than before.

This could complicate matters at some point.

The Okinawan was certain about one thing after the night before – Kei and Naru's relationship was heading for disaster. The two didn't seem to realise it, but she certainly did. The cycle of misunderstanding was unending, and now with Shinobu confessing her distress at the whole business…...Kei wasn't going to stand for it any more.

Naru wouldn't like that one bit. How the inevitable fight turned out would decide if they could survive.

And in her heart of hearts, despite the fact that she knew it was wrong to do so, Mutsumi hoped that it would all fall apart. The girl deeply resented giving in to someone who then seemed to abuse her position. She didn't hate Naru, no; she only hated what Naru did.

Which was why the gloves were going to come off, should the relationship end. The brown-eyed girl had every intention of trying to win Keitaro's' affections should the chance arise. Giving Shinobu a final glance, Mutsumi nodded to herself. _That would make us competitors. If it happens, may the best woman win._

With that thought she closed her eyes and snuggled up against Keitaro, breathing in his masculine scent. Complete with a slight perfumed scent that she couldn't quite place, maybe coming from Shinobu. Breaking into her biggest smile of the day as the man sleepily wrapped an arm around her, the Okinawan decided that despite her slightly awkward position life was indeed good.

Some things were worth getting a stiff neck for, after all.

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Mitsune stared deeply into the bottom of her glass, swilling the clear liquid within it around carelessly.

Motoko had certainly impressed into her the folly of spying. Very firmly indeed, with the flat of her blade. Hence the fox was laying face-down on her bed, head and arms dangling over the end.

Sitting was NOT an option.

Sure the fox had had dreams of being spanked, but not by a woman wielding a sword. She wasn't a masochist, for Christ sake.

After a thorough session of 'education' as the swords woman had put it, the fox had escaped to her room to inspect the damage. Although not too bad, there were going to be a few bruises the next day. It was the thought of trying to explain to everyone why she was doing everything standing up that was causing the most concern.

Slugging down the last mouthful of sake from her glass, the fox reached for the half-full bottle and poured another generous measure. Idly taking another sip, Mitsune let her gaze travel across the room. Paper scattered across her desk, more to give the impression she was doing something productive than due to actual work. Freelance writing, yeah, right. The girl hadn't written anything worth a damn for well over a year. It had started as a hobby, and when it transpired she had some talent it became a job. That rapidly became a chore.

She had started for her own pleasure, but then found herself trying to please everybody. Her desire receded rapidly as every word became a struggle, every sentence over-analysed.

The gaze swept away from the desk and onto her wall. Her collection of rare, unusual and some downright odd sake bottles sat on a shelf adorned an otherwise featureless and unpainted wooden surface. The girl couldn't help but feel this summed the world's view of her up perfectly.

Too much booze and not much else. Nice bottles though.

Annoyed at her melancholy mood, she thought about rolling over to stare at the ceiling but quickly thought better of it. Damn Motoko.

Another mouthful of sake slipped down before the girl even realised she'd had the idea.

One hand fiddling with her pink bedspread and the other securely grasping her ever-present glass, Mitsune tried to work out why she ended up lying on her face half-cut every other night. Sad really.

The fox took another gulp of alcohol, and immediately cursed herself. Tonight would end up like most of the others, no doubt. Every time she started a bottle she promised it would be the only one. And then most mornings she would awaken unable to remember going to sleep. Sometimes she would awaken in bed, sometimes on the floor, sometimes in another room. On a few occasions outside. Just last week she was awoken by a surprised Shinobu to find she had fallen asleep in the toilet. And was unconscious in an extremely undignified position.

Yet again Mitsune had promised, hand on heart, to never touch a drop again. Two mornings later she had awoken on Keitaro's futon with the Kanrinin sleeping on the floor. Damn it.

When did life become like this? The fox was sure that she must have had fun outside these four walls in the past. After all, she managed the title of 'resident party girl' right? The fox snorted with derision into her blankets. So she could start a house party with her best, no, only friends. Biiiiiig deal. And all that reputation about being a free-spirited flirt? Maybe four or five years ago, when she last actually pulled a man.

So in fact the 'party girl' of the Hinata-sou had not started a party worth a damn in half a decade. And despite her reputation as a loose woman, her virginity was very much intact. Not even a worthwhile date since turning twenty.

Which made her a fake.

Everything she was meant to be was, in fact, false, Mitsune was coming to realise. The persona that she had crafted over the years for who knows what reason, the persona that had swollen to become her and actually preceded her had no truth in it.

Well, maybe one truth. The one that had her emptying another bottle of sake into her glass, and determinedly shaking every single last droplet of liquid out of it.

If it was the only part of her image that was true to life, she may as well live it as much as possible, right?

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Motoko lay on her futon, feeling Su's grip tighten on her legs as the little Molmolian shifted in her sleep. It was the first occasion for many months the girl had shared her bed, and the grip was tighter tonight than it had been in years, which Motoko found unsurprising. The eternally youthful princess was bright, eccentric and apparently bullet-proof, but she was still susceptible to worry when things went wrong.

The girl had given her the full, unabridged story of what had gone on after the swords woman had wisely called it a night when it became clear that something was going to happen. Naru was steaming drunk and angry, Mitsune was starting to go beyond flirty and was rapidly approaching gropy, Shinobu was looking under the table for god-knows-what, Mutsumi had been making small-talk with Tama-chan and Haruka had been bending Keitaro's' ear about the dangers of alcohol and single fox-women whilst matching the woman in question drink for drink. Su had been dancing happily in the midst of what was clearly a kettle about to boil, and while Motoko would have liked to take the foreigner with her to bed before it all kicked off she couldn't bear to interrupt someone having so much fun.

She felt guilty that Su was upset now, but Motoko knew that she couldn't have stopped the girl dancing even by removing her legs at the waist. No chance.

An extra-strong squeeze caused the elegant lady to put down her romance novel and look down at the tan face framed by blonde hair that belonged to the young princess of Molmol, who was presently in an uneasy slumber whilst locked around her knees. If the strength of the vice-like grip was any indication, the girl was very anxious indeed. She hadn't cut the circulation off to Motoko's feet for a long time, not since first arriving from Molmol.

After a few seconds she shifted again, and the older lady smiled with relief. Many times in the past, the swords woman had needed to pry one of her bed-mate's arms loose to stop her legs turning blue. It wasn't a habit of Su's the ebony-haired lady missed, or one she wanted to see return.

Motoko picked up the book again and tried to concentrate on the writing within. This was normally her favourite scene from one of her favourite novels – the one where the tall dark stranger returned from battle to find his beautiful beloved awaiting his return. Then they talked, then they kissed, then he seduced her gently, and then, well, oh my. It was beautifully written, and would normally hold the girl's attention for at two-thirds of the chapter. As for the final third, it was so well written that Motoko's attention generally ended up on something…..else.

In any case, this time she couldn't get more than one line into the first paragraph before her interest was lost. There was too much to consider, given all the details of last night. First in mind was what was going to happen as far as the happy couple went. Motoko felt (much as Mutsumi) that the line had been undeniably crossed.

What was more interesting to the girl was Mitsune's behaviour. A sly caress or two, yes, to be expected. Even a less subtle grope of their Kanrinin – Motoko knew her well enough to be sure that the fox felt something for Keitaro, even if just due to a lack of other opportunities. But what happened after that was not in the expected script.

And Keitaro's reaction to the whole thing also bore consideration. It was definitely out of character. If Su was to be believed, he seemed to be enjoying the whole experience until the point he got nailed by Naru.

Something that didn't sit easily with the swords woman. Motoko put it down to her inherent dislike of public affection and disgust at the bawdiness of the whole affair, but deep down there was a twinge of something she couldn't place. Whatever it was, the emotion was directed more at Mitsune than Keitaro.

Deciding she didn't want to follow the line of thought any further, Motoko decided to give the book another go. With knowledge that she had better skip to another chapter as reading steamy scenes with someone else in the same bed was one of those ideas that goes in the 'bad' pile.

After twenty pages Su eventually started to relax, allowing the heir to the Shinmei-ryu to finally settle into a more comfortable position herself. Clicking the light off the woman plunged into a deep slumber within seconds, to dreams of warriors returning to ebony-haired lovers, carrying various spoils of war.

Why some of them had brown hair and glasses was a question she refused to ponder.

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Naru lay perfectly still, staring into a pair of brown eyes.

The eyes stared right back, unwavering, almost challenging.

Naru blinked.

Her opponent didn't. Which wasn't surprising.

Dolls aren't big blinkers really.

It wasn't really Liddo-Kun that Naru was considering. It was the hole he sat on that was the focus of her thoughts.

The girl had almost lifted up the board beneath Liddo-kun a dozen times, for what reason she wasn't sure. Was it to talk, to apologise or just to make sure the hole was still there? The portal between the two rooms that had never closed, would never close. It was something that lifted her during those dark moments when regret for her actions became overpowering.

A reminder he still loved her.

Not that the girl ever forgot. Although she liked to keep any emotion that made her vulnerable close to her chest, it was no secret she had grown to love Keitaro. It was just so difficult to express it. Naru had grown to believe that, in the end, men were after nothing but flesh. Surely, any suggestion that love was reciprocated would lead to the assumption that she was giving both soul and body to her boyfriend.

Naru wasn't ready for that. The honey-haired girl doubted she ever would be, in truth.

Being completely honest with herself, half of the pervert-bashings were generated by frustration at her inability to return the affection she was being shown. Panty-peeking episodes aside, of course. But then add the fact that most of the other bashings were born out of jealousy, when Keitaro was in a compromising situation with someone else……

So the man was stuck. Wouldn't get anything from her, couldn't get anything from anyone else. Difficult situation to be in, Naru reasoned. But all the same, the Tokyo-U student couldn't even consider changing her own stance. She wasn't willing or able to give Keitaro what she thought he wanted, but she'd be damned if someone else was going to get her claws into him. He was hers. Hers! It had taken her long enough to realise what she felt, and thanked the fates that her Kanrinin was so damn stubborn.

He had that quality in abundance; pursuing her to the ends of Japan proved that. Now she just needed him to stay patient with her until she was ready to go to the next level. Eventually.

Giving into temptation, Naru ended the staring match with Liddo-kun and lifted him up gently before cautiously sliding the plywood board back a few inches. When darkness came into view the girl gave a sigh of contentment, before replacing it quietly. No need for Keitaro to think she was inviting him up whilst she was sleeping.

Yawning deeply and rubbing her bleary eyes, the girl decided to call it a night. Popping the doll back in his rightful place Naru curled up on her futon and turned out the light, deciding to make things up with Shinobu in the morning.

The girl never noticed that, due to a comfortable sofa, the room below was unoccupied.

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Well, not really a cliffie this time.

I'm going to be working next weekend, so no chance of another chapter then. I fully intend to have a chapter up the weekend after.

Until then,

Nodoka Miyazawa


	5. Chapter 5

Well, it's been a couple of weeks, time for an update.

I'm not sure how long this fic will turn out, but I doubt I'm near half-way yet. I also have no fixed plan as to how this will work out, or indeed which pairing will turn out in the end.

Thanks to all the reviewers, your feedback is greatly appreciated

Well, on with the chapter.

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Repercussions - Chapter 5

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Haruka stubbed a cigarette out irritably. She'd awoken earlier than she'd intended, which wasn't surprising. Sighing, she fiddled with her brown ceramic mug before taking a slug of black coffee, feeling thoroughly irritable. It was not even dawn yet, but she knew that sleep was over. Not that she'd managed much, as thoughts rumbled like thunder through her mind for much of the night.

Staring blankly around at the comfortable warmth of her café, the woman couldn't draw any enjoyment from the flawless décor, which was all created by her hand. Oriental wall scrolls, tan-varnished panels and wooden furniture, all illuminated by numerous hanging lamps adorning the ceiling. Many hours of hard work, and her pride and joy. Normally the darkest mood would be lifted by gazing around her creation, especially when silent and undisturbed by customers.

But at present, Haruka felt just too tired with things to manage even a twinge of satisfaction. Lighting another tobacco stick from her ever present box, the brown-haired woman began running through her thoughts.

Naru, yeah, she was tired of Naru. The girl, in her opinion, had stepped over the mark the night before last. She was drunk, yes. But she meant what she said, and sure as hell meant to knock Keitaro into next week.

Keitaro. Haruka hated to admit it, but she was tired with him too. Perhaps that was one reason she harboured such resentment towards Naru was that the antennae'd girl was making her annoyed with her neph- no, her favourite relative. He worshipped the very ground the girl walked upon.

It was the lack of balls, for lack of a better term, that Haruka was really fed up with. Love or no, there was only so much someone should be willing to take before refusing to tolerate any more. If it had been her, she would have drop-kicked the Tokyo-U student down the steps months ago.

Well, maybe not, but she sure as hell wouldn't be chasing after her. Or even talking to her for that matter.

If there was one thing that encouraged Haruka, it was that Keitaro had finally shown a bit of backbone that night. When he had taken Naru on face-to-face, and wouldn't step down. Keitaro would not, ever, allow anyone to say he would do such a thing. To even suggest he would consider accosting a girl against her will, and Shinobu at that…..

The thirty-something lady took another mouthful of coffee, flicking a half-inch of ash from the end of her cigarette. It was the look on the young man's face when she accused him of trying to molest someone he was so protective of that suggested the line had been crossed. Haruka could almost see the rose-tinted spectacles slide off their precarious perch and tumble to the floor.

Where Naru had put her size six heels onto them and ground them into dust, much to Mutsumi's poorly concealed delight.

Oh yes, Mutsumi too. Haruka was intending to have a chat with the girl as soon as possible. It was obvious at the dinner table that she was trying to set Naru up, either to catch her in a lie or bring her down in front of everyone. The older woman was prepared to overlook it as a bit of anger at the other girl's actions. But then, after the party, there was uncertainty in Haruka's mind. She was beginning to wonder if the ever-cheery lady had decided she wanted to hurry Keitaro out of his somewhat unhealthy relationship.

She had watched the dark-eyed Okinawan talking into Mitsune's ear for a good ten minutes when the fox was blazing drunk, before asking Keitaro for the next dance. After barely a minute, she had handed the Kanrinin onto the hungry-looking alcoholic with an obvious wink.

Then, soon as the fox started getting overly affectionate, she had shaken the semi-comatose Naru (who was dozing with her head on the table at the time) and asked if she wanted a drink. Head came up, eyes opened straight onto the pair right before her, and all hell broke loose.

Maybe it was all co-incidence. But everything took place a little too smoothly. Haruka would have expected the mahogany haired girl to dance with Keitaro for as long as her temperamental body could handle it. And why wake up someone so utterly intoxicated to ask if she wanted yet another drink? She knew what would happen soon as Naru clapped eyes on her boyfriend with someone else's hand on his crotch. Especially Mitsune's. Deep down, Naru was intimidated by the fox's looks, felt threatened by her reputation.

Guaranteed bad reaction.

And Mitsune…..

If there was one person Haruka really was tired of, it was the silver fox. Drunk every other night, playing games with Keitaro, fleecing every yen she could get and blowing the lot on horses or sake. Taking her favourite relative's good nature and milking the hell out of it. Living on platitudes and other people's money.

The café owner had put endless graft into making her shop one of the finest in the city, and even put some of the profits to the upkeep of the Hinata Sou. To see it leached by someone who seemed utterly disinterested in doing a day's work in her life, and enjoyed the challenge of living off other people……

Haruka was surprised to find she was snarling with annoyance. The situation irked her no end. The woman had no idea how Mitsune had managed to work her way over half a decade from paid-up resident to fair weather freeloader, but it had been done with a subtlety and panache that was remarkable.

And her alcohol intake…..

That was becoming a real issue. The café owner wasn't so concerned for the fox herself, it was more the worry that one of the other residents could be affected by her errant behaviour, or even be dragged into the same bad habit. Shinobu and Su particularly, as the freelance freeloader wasn't concerned who she shared her stash with - the more the merrier in her opinion.

The night before last proved what results that sort of attitude can produce.

Haruka exhaled irritably, trying to resist the urge to light up a third cigarette in fifteen minutes. It wasn't that she disliked any of the girls. She had always been fond of them all, especially Shinobu. But the way things had been going recently, she was just…..tired. Things needed to change, and soon. Otherwise she'd end up smoking more than Mutsumi's old house.

The gown-clad woman cast a glance out of the window, and a brief smile graced her still youthful features.

There was one more thing she was tired of, and that was the snow.

At least that had stopped.

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Keitaro found himself in a very enjoyable situation. He had dreamt of being in this position more than once, but this dream was much, much better than his average ones.

For a few seconds the young man relished the sensations, being the contented filling of an otherwise very feminine sandwich, judging by the softness that was pushed into each of his arms. Feeling very warm and even more comfortable, he drowsily decided to just enjoy the experience.

Just then, the softness on his left shifted slightly, with a quiet sigh.

Hang on a minute.

Keitaro's brain began to flag up a few things. One, he was sitting somewhere, so he was not in his room. Two, he had a person on each arm, both female judging by the ahem consistency. Three, he was definitely not dreaming, since that pinch he had just given himself really hurt.

The air-raid sirens began to wail as Keitaro began to realise he was, in fact, sleeping with two women of unknown identity in an unknown location.

Feeling himself beginning to sweat, he cracked one of his eyes open. They took in pastel-blue wallpaper, a table with purple flowers arranged neatly upon them, and the sun shining in through balcony windows. So Shinobu's room then. This also meant that one of the very pleasant lumps pressing against him was most likely the violet-haired girl. This didn't provide the Kanrinin with any great comfort. The one place to be discovered (other than in Naru's underwear drawer) that would guarantee him certain death was here. Plus after having slept with his youngest tenant…..

Keitaro blushed gently at the way his mind had put it. They hadn't slept together in _that_ way, but sure as hell is a bit warm would the anti-pervert alliance take it as meaning full-blown sex with a starter of foreplay, possibly followed by a cigarette for dessert.

Resisting the urge to panic, the Kanrinin decided to work out who was on his right. Slowly, with the utmost care, he tilted his head over and opened his eye a little more. Dark brown hair was the sight that greeted him, too dark to be Naru. Between that and the, well, amount of softness against that arm, the young man came to the conclusion it was Mutsumi. Releasing a gasp of relief he didn't know he was carrying, the Kanrinin relaxed slightly. The Okinawan was always well meaning, and would have no intention of broadcasting the fact that she had slept beside him and Shinobu at the same time. He hoped.

Speaking of whom…..

Keitaro opened his other eye to find two violet ones peering back at him from close range.

"Good morning Sem-Keitaro." Shinobu chirped happily. Sensing the man's panic levels beginning to rise again, the girl gave his arm a tight squeeze. "You fell asleep here with me yesterday, nothing wrong with that. No-one has to know you spent the night in my room."

"Thanks Shinobu." Keitaro nodded his head towards the still sleeping Mutsumi. "When did she get here? The last thing I remember was watching the snow fall."

"Your guess is as good as mine." Shinobu patted the tartan blanket. "I suppose she's responsible for this. Maybe she felt a little light-headed and decided to sit here rather than risk fainting." The girl smiled before cuddling back into her Kanrinin's side, pleased to note that he only tensed for a few seconds before relaxing again. "Besides, I'd have wanted to join us, so I can't blame her."

"Mmmmm." Keitaro replied, enjoying the situation a little more than he would have before - now, he didn't feel an overwhelming desire to run and hide under the nearest piece of furniture. "I don't know if I said this yesterday, but thanks, Shinobu."

"Any time, Keitaro."

"Ara, my neck is stiff this morning." Shinobu jumped, and so would Keitaro had he not been firmly trapped.

"G-good morning Mutsumi-san." The diminutive girl stuttered as the older woman's eyelids fluttered open slowly.

"Ah, good morning Shinobu-chan, morning Kei-kun." Mutsumi stretched her arms out to their full length, yawning widely. "How are you both today?" Receiving positive responses (excepting complaints about stiff backs) the brown-haired girl relaxed back into the chair, wiping sleep from her eyes.

"Um, Mutsumi-chan, when did you get here?" Keitaro asked, curious.

"Mmmmm, about eleven last night I think." Yawning again sleepily, Mutsumi let her eyelids close slowly again. "You both looked comfy, and I was tired. I decided that the sofa was closer and more inviting than my bed."

"I was just saying the same thing, right Keitaro?" Shinobu added.

Mutsumi looked at her curiously. It was seconds before the younger girl noted her slip, and the enquiring gaze of the one sat on the far side of her Kanrinin. Far too late take it back.

"Ah, Mutsumi-chan, we kinda decided we knew each other well enough to drop the formality." Murmured Keitaro, thinking it was pointless lying to the Okinawan. The aforesaid girl nodded gently with her usual blissful expression firmly in place whilst the gears in her mind began whirring frantically. This put a different complexion on things. Shinobu obviously had come to the same conclusions as her, and whatever took place yesterday had both eased the Kanrinin's fear of close contact and also given the two a much tighter relationship.

Which, in the case of a break-up, made things all the more complicated. Mutsumi had no intention of 'fighting' as such for Keitaro, she was very much of the opinion it was down to him who he loved most. Whilst the mahogany-haired girl wanted it to be her so badly it made her heart lurch, she had no intention of trying to defeat any 'rivals' she may have.

All the same, allowing one of the others to have a more intimate relationship than her wasn't something she was going to let happen easily.

"So….." The young lady clutched more tightly onto her friend's right arm, and gave him a gentle smile. "Do you think we know each other well enough yet, Kei-kun?" Mutsumi resisted the Mitsune-ish desire to use her ample assets in an attempt to influence the response. In truth, the Okinawan had wanted to drop the honorific for some time, but a mixture of fear at the response and loyalty to Naru had held her back.

"I suppose so, Mutsumi." A massive, gleeful grin sprang onto the turtle-girl's mouth.

"Oh, Kei. You have no idea how long I've wanted to just call you that!" She bubbled, clutching onto his side with more strength than the brown-haired man knew she was capable of.

"The feeling's mutual." Keitaro had always shared a close bond with Mutsumi, and whilst yesterday's development came as a bit of a surprise, albeit a welcome one, this progression felt natural.

"Great!" Mutsumi semi-glomped the object of her affections, catching Shinobu's eye as she did so. The Okinawan was concerned that the younger girl would be angry, but was pleased to see her nod with a tiny smile. It seemed the violet-haired chef understood this wasn't an attempt to make a point.

"Well, now that's settled, I should go and start breakfast." Shinobu made to get up, but was halted by an anxious arm from Keitaro.

"Um, I know we've talked about this, but would you keep calling me 'sempai' when we're around the others?" He said nervously, looking beseechingly up at her. The teenager tutted with annoyance, but nodded.

"Okay, for now. But sooner or later the others are going to have to learn to put up with it." The bespectacled man sighed with relief.

"I know. But when you plan to let the cat out of the bag, tell me so I can take cover." Not noticing the pained look Shinobu gave him, Keitaro turned to the girl on his right. "Can I ask the same of you, Mutsumi?"

"For you." Agreed the brown-eyed girl.

"Right." Shinobu slid out from under the blanket and straightened with a grimace. "Auuuuu, my neck is stiff as a board. Next time we sleep together, Keitaro, we're doing it on a futon." Chuckling to herself at the spluttered reaction and trying to ignore the rose blossoming on her own cheeks, the violet-haired girl moved over to her dresser.

"I think I'll get up too." Mutsumi got up off the settee gracefully, and nearly fell back down onto it as her blood pressure failed to rise with her. "Ara, maybe not. Hope you don't mind."

"Fine." Shinobu turned around to face the others, clutching something tightly. "Kei, are you going to go and get changed?" Caught daydreaming, the Kanrinin was brought back to reality by the normally demure girl grinning in a foxish manner.

"Uh, well….."

"Because if you want to stay, I think I owe you one for yesterday morning don't I?" With that Shinobu opened her hand, letting something lacy and black unfurl from within it. "Fair is fair after all….." The identity of what Shinobu was holding and the implications of her statement both hit Keitaro at the same time. Hence the Kanrinin did the only thing he could given the situation.

Pass out.

"Ara, do you have any tissues Shinobu-chan?" Mutsumi asked, trying to stem the bleeding from the unconscious man's nose. The girl replied by handing the Okinawan a box, feeling extremely gratified by the response her teasing provoked. Something had changed in Shinobu after the events of the day before. After finding out what a bit of bravery could do for her, the normally shy girl was evolving into someone a little more forward and determined.

After halting the flow of blood, Mutsumi looked over at her friend who was busy pulling out some far more sensible underwear. "What was that about owing Kei one?"

"Oh, I took him breakfast in bed as a treat. He asked me to join him, and I went to fetch the tea kettle while he dressed." Shinobu coloured a little more. "I decided to see if I could get back before he had finished, just to, uh, see what I could see. I didn't expect him to, well, be….." At this the blush deepened to a ripe cherry, and the girl muttered what sounded like 'hairy elephant' under her breath whilst her eyes stared avidly at some internal vision.

Mutsumi decided not to dig any further.

"So, what are we going to do with him? I can't carry him to his room, and even if I could god help him if we're seen on the way." Shinobu shrugged.

"Leave him here. I'll stay with him until he comes around." The teen stripped her white shirt off, bundling it up before dropping it in a wicker washing hamper.

"What if he comes around while you're changing?" Mutsumi asked, finger on chin. Her friend shrugged again, with rosy cheeks but a feline tinge to her smile.

"Well, what I said earlier is true – payback is fair. Besides - " Shinobu picked up her black negligee again, and slipped Mutsumi a wink. " - If he wakes up and finds me starkers, he won't be awake for very long……"

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The group around the breakfast table was generally a little more cheerful than they had been the evening before. Motoko occasionally muttered under her breath whilst massaging her legs and a constantly fidgeting Mitsune looked like she'd just walked out of a graveyard on Halloween, but all in all it was a happier bunch.

"Pass the soy sauce please, Motoko-san." Naru said, fiddling with the pink collar of her cotton pyjamas with an idle hand.

"Certainly, Naru-san." Handing her fellow pervert-basher the bottle, the Kendoist returned to her own meal.

"Thanks." The honey-brown eyed girl dashed some of the dark liquid across her food, and returned to eating. It was unusual to see everyone, from Shinobu to Haruka and everyone between at the same table, including Tama-chan who was perched happily upon Mutsumi's head. Tallying mentally, Naru estimated she needed to apologise to two people and talk to at least a further two. One of whom was currently between Mutsumi and Shinobu, who were like bookends – one leaning left and one right.

"The snow seems to have stopped at last, so I'm going to pop out to the store later and stock up in case we get some more." Haruka cast a leisurely look around the table. "Anyone want to come along and help?"

"School is still out, so count me in." Shinobu offered, sipping at her tea.

"Yay! Food!" Su added her name to the list.

"Well, I have nothing to do today, so I'll lend a hand Haruka-obasan." Keitaro volunteered with a smile.

THWAP

"Right, that's three." Haruka noted, putting her harisen away. "Anyone else?"

"I think it is best for everybody that I don't go out in this weather." Murmured Mutsumi. "But if you would be so kind could you pick me up something for my neck?" The smiling girl winced as she tried to hold her head level. "Something to rub in would be wonderful."

"Okay then. Any other requests?" At that a single hand was raised. "And Kitsune-san, if you're going to ask for sake, you can put your arm down as soon as you're ready." The hand faltered, and then was slowly lowered to the sound of dark mutterings.

"Kei-kun, since you're going to be helping with the shopping, I'd be happy to take over your tutoring duties for the day. Provided Motoko is satisfied that is, I won't be able to write much." Naru offered, trying to extend an olive branch.

"Well, I must say that is a kind offer Naru-san. I would be happy with the arrangement today, but will defer to my current sensei for his decision." The raven-haired lady turned her attention to Keitaro, and the two exchanged a look. After a second, the Kanrinin nodded.

"Yes, there is nothing specific we needed to work on today, so I've got no problems with that." The brown-haired man chuckled. "Plus I do have a door to repair, come to think of it."

"I feel that someone at the table should perhaps contribute to the costs from her sake fund." Motoko added dryly, drawing a snicker from Haruka. The fox just glared the best she could at the swords woman whilst internally wishing she could have a cushion or something to make breakfast tolerable.

For a few seconds the only sound was the 'tink' of chopsticks on enamel before Naru piped up.

"Speaking of which Kei-kun, where did you sleep last night?" The clicking of two sets of utensils stopped as the pair looked at one another.

"Wh-what do you mean, Naru-chan?" The brown-haired girl pointed at the ex-ronin with her chopsticks, raising an eyebrow.

"I checked your room this morning and found it empty, no futon out or anything. You didn't get up until after I did, and I watch you changing out of the same clothes you wore yesterday."

"My, that's not very polite Naru-san." Put in Shinobu, narrowing her eyes slightly. Realising her mistake the older girl tried to play down her part in the story.

"It's nothing that he hasn't done hundreds of times in the past."

"And you bashed him every time-"

"Please, Shinobu-chan. It's true I've seen Naru changing in the past." Keitaro cut in, trying to diffuse the imminent argument.

"But Sempai-"

"Damn right he has. And that's not the point." Naru made a stabbing gesture with her cutlery. "What I want to know is, if your room was empty, where the hell were you last night?"

"Uh, well….." Unbidden, the Kanrinin's hands came up into their usual defensive position as he anticipated the imminent explosion.

"He was in my room, Naru-san." Attention shifted to Mutsumi, who was sat with a placid smile.

"Your room?" Naru blink-blinked at the blunt admission.

"Yes. Shinobu-chan had not managed to finish the laundry, so Kei-kun had no futon to sleep on. My bed is much more comfortable than his chair, so I offered to share it with him." There was a subtle shift around the table at the blandly spoken statement. Suddenly hands were on hilts or clenching into fists, and one person gave an angry sigh at the violence that was about to occur.

"Your bed?" Murmured Motoko, grasping the Hina blade firmly in preparation. The girl did not want to use it, but this kind of misdemeanour could not be ignored.

"Yes." Continued Mutsumi happily, seemingly oblivious at the sudden tension and the banging of a head hitting the table repeatedly beside her. "However, Kei-kun being ever the gentleman insisted I have the bed, and he took my sofa." The head stopped mid-fall, and everyone around the table (bar Su) froze as the train of thought suddenly jumped tracks.

"He'd better not have done anything perverted." Naru grumbled, seeking more familiar ground.

"Not at all. He left the room while I got ready for bed." Mutsumi continued dreamily. "And even tucked me in tightly before retiring himself. It's a lovely feeling, wouldn't you agree Naru?"

"………" The honey-haired girl looked down at the table, unable to admit that she wouldn't know.

"Well, I see that as acceptable." Motoko said, drinking the last of her tea whilst Keitaro gave Mutsumi's hand a squeeze in thanks.

"If everyone else is finished……" Haruka began, before rising from the table and carrying her plates out to the sink. Mitsune left in a rush after her, keenly intent on getting the pressure off her abused posterior.

"I'm gonna go get dressed an' do some work on The super-sonic Mk. 5 (patent. pend.), it wasn't as powerful as I wanted." Su cheered, before hopping off up the stairs with her usual boundless energy. Cue five sweat-drops.

"Not as powerful?" Echoed Shinobu, eyebrows near her hairline.

"This is Su we're talking about. Things like physics and reality only exist when it suits her." Naru commented, pushing her plate to one side. "So Motoko, when do you fancy starting our study session?"

"I would like an hour for some reading, if I may." After receiving a 'no problem' in response, the elegant young lady left the table and strolled off towards her room.

"I'll get started on the washing-up. Care to join me, Mutsumi-san?" Shinobu added, gathering up the remaining dishes. As the pair made their way to the kitchen, Naru and Keitaro noticed they were very much alone at the table.

Cue uncomfortable silence.

"Uh, Kei-kun….."

"We need to talk, I know." The Kanrinin answered, avoiding his girlfriend's eyes.

"Yeah, we do." Naru looked up at the clock. "After lunch?"

"I don't know, I might not have repaired my door by then."

"My room. Don't try and get away from it Kei-kun." The honey-eyed girl warned, knowing her boyfriend would try and evade the confrontation.

"Fine." Keitaro acquiesced with a sigh. "But make sure there's nothing lying around I can trip on or that I shouldn't see. I don't want any misunderstandings." Naru huffed in indignation.

"You think I leave things out just to set you up? Don't trust me much do you?" The man didn't reply, instead he stood slowly and picked his plates up. "Do you?" The girl pushed, indignant at the implied answer.

"We'll find out soon, Naru." Keitaro eventually replied, slipping into the kitchen.

"Keitaro-kun, we'll be heading off soon." Called Haruka, re-entering the room with her black scarf firmly wrapped around her neck. "You ready Shinobu-chan?"

"Two seconds, Haruka-san!" The chef answered, leaving the kitchen while wiping her hands on a tea-towel.

"Right then." With that the café owner cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted. "Su! Lunch!"

"Sweet!" The young princess hurtled gleefully down the stairs, seemingly ignorant of the fact she had only just climbed them.

"…..Will be in a few hours." Finished Haruka as the tan girl landed in front of her, now wearing a pout.

"Ah, damn. You always get me with that one." Su griped, fishing a banana from who-knows-where and demolishing it in a few bites.

"Best way to get your attention." Replied Haruka with just a hint of a smile. "Now get your coat on, we're going shopping. And no, we're not going to use one of your mecha-tamas to carry it, I'd rather get the food home intact and edible."

"Okies!" The hyperactive teen hopped off to comply, and Naru decided to make herself scarce. Heading to her room, the young lady decided to make sure it was spotless. To show Keitaro she was taking him seriously.

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Mitsune stacked the empty bottles from the two previous nights up, vowing to take them to the bottle bank when she could be bothered.

The woman looked blearily around her room, feeling both the effects of too much sake and a pretty sleepless night. This was partly due to the fact that every time she turned over she would receive a sharp reminder of the dangers of spying. Motoko knew what she was doing, that was for sure. A spanking did no lasting damage, but it was both embarrassing and persistently painful.

But the other part was something the fox was paying more attention to.

She had often found after one of her bigger benders that she would remember next to nothing beyond a point the next day. But over time, like betrayed spirits seeking vengeance, some of the memories would come drifting back. Entering themselves insidiously into the cobwebbed corners of the mind, corners that had been abandoned in the hope that they would cease to exist.

The memory might be of falling flat on her face. Or of eating a junky take-out that had been ordered in the middle of the night, one that had been delivered by a thoroughly exhausted boy on a bike who resented the hundreds of steps he had been forced to ascend without receiving a tip. Or maybe a vague recollection of stopping to answer a call of nature in an unconventional spot, like a phone box.

All cringe worthy yes, but not earth-moving in the grand scale of things.

But the latest recollection to spirit itself into her mind was a hazy recollection of standing toe-to-toe with someone, getting right into their face. Grabbing the injured hand of the person in question, and crushing it with the intention of causing pain.

Naru's hand…..

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It was after Naru had tried to decapitate Keitaro with one of her trademark right hooks, an attempt which had sent him stumbling back into to the wall. For some reason, something in the fox-girl had begun to boil. Perhaps it was the fact she had been rudely thrown into a chair in the middle of a very pleasurable dancing session. Maybe it was partially the way that the Kanrinin, who Mitsune had come to understand much more that evening, had been struck without a second thought.

But it was probably the bitter irony of the situation.

The tearful exit of Shinobu and the escalating argument were lost to the fox as she began to feast on her anger at how life was. By her drunken recollections, every time she had become close to a man the same thing had happened. Knowingly or not her good friend had jostled in and taken her place or pushed the man in question away, leaving the fox alone again.

Sochiro, back in college. Hideaki, when she was eighteen.

Seta……

And now Seta's protégé. A man she cared for more than she could admit. And there was her best friend, ending her enjoyment and throwing her again into the shadows, only to abuse the position she gained by casting the fox into the cold.

A fist made contact with the wall, thanks to Keitaro's reflexive crouch, and the bitterness boiled over inside the lonely woman's mind. As Mutsumi pulled the shaken Kanrinin away and Naru clutched her wounded hand in agony, the inebriated girl hurled herself off the chair and stormed towards her friend.

"Kitsune?" Naru had mumbled, looking decidedly unsteady. The silver fox didn't reply initially, instead grasping the injured palm. "Kitsune, what are you-Aaaaah!" Mitsune squeezed for just a moment, enough time for the shocked honey eyes of her best friend to meet her own.

"Naru girl, listen to me, and listen good." The taller woman gave the hand in her grasp another tight squeeze, one that caused Naru to yelp. "You feel that? That's how I feel every damn night. That's how bein' alone feels. Like part of you is broken, and someone just keeps on squeezin' it. Tighter and tighter." The grip grew vice-like, and the brown-haired girl fell to her knees with a gasp of agony. Mitsune bent down at the waist, keeping her eyes locked in place. "And when you think it can't get worse, well whadaya know? Someone gives the screw another turn."

"Kitsune, please……" Trying to ignore the water filling her eyes, the fox-girl sank to the ground with her shaking friend.

"You don't realise how good you have it, do ya? How many times you've charmed someone from right under my nose, or how many times I've stepped back to give ya the chance I wanted. And every time, ya blow it, another man chased off by yer damn temper." Mitsune laughed bitterly, not an ounce of humour in the throaty cackle that emerged. "Even the men I got close to got driven off by that one-woman crusade yer seem to be fixed on. Well wakey-wakey sister, you're not the only one who goes to bed alone every night!"

"You're hurting me, let go!" Her friend tried to wrench the limb away, and howled as the crushing hold seemed to tighten even further. With her free hand the fox grasped Naru's jaw firmly, not allowing the other girl to turn away.

"No, you gotta remember this Naru." The silver-eyed lady ground out through clenched teeth. "You keep shovin' everyone away and beatin' on people who don't deserve it, you're gonna end up with this feelin' every night for the rest of your life. Every. Damn. Night. You get ta the point where you do anythin' for a moment's peace, and lemmie tell you, it ain't somewhere you want ta be." Naru gave a choked cry, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks…..

"Stop it!" Su cried as she sprang between the two, before trying to pry Mitsune's tightly wound fingers off Naru's hand. Shortly afterwards someone else, maybe Haruka, joined the effort. The last thing the fox-girl could remember was having her grip forcefully released, and then sobs bubbling up as Keitaro helped her into a chair.

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Mitsune shuddered at the memory, feeling thoroughly ashamed. The girl had been steaming drunk before, but never had she actually hurt someone deliberately, be it physically or emotionally. As the fox considered what had gone on, she almost felt the urge to retch at the sensation of grinding broken bones beneath her fingers. She had seen Naru's hand without bandages yesterday, and had no doubt that something had cracked when the temperamental woman had put her fist through that wall. The honey-haired girl was going to have it checked out in the hospital as soon as she could get through the snow.

But equally stomach turning was the knowledge that she had meant everything she'd said and did. That she'd really wanted Naru to experience the gnawing pain that was her daily companion, the same one Keitaro felt every time his 'girlfriend' pushed him away or sent him skywards. Just to make the girl aware of the price of her indecision.

Mitsune didn't want her 'sister' to end up the way she had.

Mutsumi remembered what had happened. So did Keitaro, judging by the fact they had politely avoided her since the previous morning. Haruka certainly did, judging by the almighty chewing-out she had sustained from the cigarette smoking lady. Even Su seemed a little distant.

But Naru, Naru was acting as if nothing had taken place. The Tokyo-U student was not a good enough actor to be faking ignorance either. So, like for Mitsune, the memory must have been lost in the fog of alcohol.

The fox didn't want to know what would happen should the fog suddenly clear for Naru as it had for her.

"Damn, I'm gonna need some more sake for this." The freeloader grunted, noting she was down to her last few bottles. This tied her hands a little – although she hadn't been planning to go anywhere, it seemed she would have to venture forth into the big, cold world to buy some more of her own supplies. It would also give her the chance to pick up some form guides as well in case the snow should clear enough for the horses. Briefly her mind flitted back to Haruka, and some of the things the older lady said to her. Shrugging, the fox decided to go ahead and buy the alcohol anyway. The café owner would be down in her own shop again soon enough, she'd never know.

Making up her mind, the fox peeled off the clothes she had worn all night and most of the day before, and set out for the hot spring. Praying all the while that no-one else in the Hinata-sou had the desire to bring up her fight with Naru to the girl herself. Some things were best lost in the mists of time, after all.

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The study session had been going on for over an hour, and the student had proven herself to be exemplary. Barely a problem evaded her, and even the most complex of solutions seemed to be within her grasp.

Her tutor on the other hand wasn't quite as focussed.

Naru played with her fingers as the ebony-haired girl opposite gave the questions her full attention. Judging by the rate at which her student rattled though calculus puzzles, the honey-haired girl estimated Motoko could have sat the entrance test to Tokyo U yesterday, and still ranked top ten.

The current university student couldn't help but be impressed. She had never quite scaled this level even when she had topped the nation several years ago. Either Motoko was an absolute genius, or she was getting a hell of a lot wrong.

Idly, the 'teacher' flicked through some of the earlier question books, and discovered the answer was most certainly the former. So, bereft of the need to impart any wisdom, Naru instead decided to enjoy the peace.

Christ, she was bored.

The slim girl slid her eyes around her room, trying to find something of interest. No luck. It doesn't matter how nice a shade of peach your walls are, after a thousand days of seeing it finding anything interesting was a bit of a task.

"Finished, Naru-sensei." Motoko handed her book over with barely a look, and Naru flicked through it, checking the answers. After a few moments, the girl handed it back, absolutely gobsmacked.

"My, Motoko-san. It seems practice is something you need no more of." The swords woman bowed in response to the praise.

"Thank you, Naru-sempai. But I will continue to do so. The way of study is the same for academia as it is for the sword; practice does indeed make perfect." 'And I thought I was dedicated' thought Naru, shaking her head gently.

"How on earth did you get this good working with that baka?" Motoko frowned gently.

"I find your criticism unwarranted. Urashima-san has proven himself more than able, it was lack of self-belief that proved his repeated downfall."

"I suppose you've got a point. He had the headless chicken exam method down perfectly." The bespectacled girl took off her studying glasses and polished them carelessly. "But all the same, and please excuse the lack of modesty, he was never at my standard. The guy would stumble and fumble his way through hours of study, always asking me dim questions or staring into space. I can't remember him being at this kind of level." The woman sat opposite her gave her a level stare.

"Naru-sempai, please. You know perfectly well why that was the case." The brunette sighed, and shrugged.

"Yeah, you're right. He was so obsessed with yours truly that he couldn't think about anything else." Popping her bottle-bottomed specs back on, Naru chuckled. "It was equal parts satisfying, distracting and disturbing."

"So how would you describe things now?" The woman sat opposite Motoko blinked slowly.

"That's an odd question. What does it matter to you?" At the cagey response, the swords woman gave a tiny shrug.

"Not a lot. Merely asking after the well-being of two of my housemates. I apologise for the discourtesy."

"It's okay Motoko-san. Just a little edgy that's all, things aren't quite as they should be right now as I'm sure you're aware….." Looking uncomfortable, Naru hedged for a diversion. "Seriously though, why study with him? I can't see anything he could teach you."

"Oh, it's mostly simple things. Occasional points I find difficult, and also study and exam technique." At Naru's snort, Motoko couldn't help but smile. "Honestly, who has more experience at studying and exams than he? An added bonus is that he's made every error in the book, and quite a few that aren't. Even something as obvious as 'mark the right box' which I failed to do twice during last year's examinations."

"Anyone could tell you that, Motoko." The brunette said, shaking her head gently.

"Yes, anyone could. But who else actually would? Besides, it's not a one-sided relationship. He benefits from my presence also." Motoko could have sworn Naru's ears actually twitched.

"Benefits?" The university student leaned forwards slightly, chin on her uninjured palm. "What kind of benefits?"

"Oh, instruction on a few techniques I have learnt from the women of my school. Techniques he has found very useful, may I add." The girl opposite frowned, honey eyes narrowing.

"What _kind_ of techniques?" She almost growled.

"Techniques in, shall we say, the feminine arts of our school." The chin almost slipped from it's perch.

"F-feminine arts?!" Naru spluttered, somewhere between shocked and outraged. "What the HELL are those?" Motoko replied with a cool smile.

"Ones that I am bound not to share on pain of banishment." The ebony-haired girl lied easily, knowing that there really was no such punishment. However, the Kendoist was happy to let Naru think what she wanted.

Keitaro had wanted to know if the girl really did trust him, and although he hadn't asked for any help Motoko was just as keen to find out. For reasons the heir to the Shinmei-ryu would not share.

"Why, that pervert….." Naru ground out, clenching her uninjured fist.

"Make what you will of it, Naru-sempai. But I believe it is almost time for lunch." The slim girl eased herself up from her knees, scooping up the ever-present Hina blade on the way. "Will you be joining us?"

"Oh, yes. Give me a minute, Motoko-san." The seated woman replied distractedly, still turning things over in her head.

"Very well. I will see you at the table in a short while." With that Motoko strode from the room, and pulled the door shut behind her. Once outside, the robed girl allowed herself a grin. This was something she had been waiting for over the last few months, ever since she had made her promise.

Ever since she had opened her eyes, or had them opened for her.

Motoko strolled off towards the dining room whilst humming a little tune, her mind drifting back to the previous autumn.

The autumn that had changed her outlook on life forever...

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Well, that's chapter 5. Bit of an odd place to end maybe, but I want to explore this bit in more depth and didn't want it stuck on the end of this chapter.

Oh, and the confrontation between Naru and Keitaro will be in the next chapter too

Until next time.

Nodoka Miyazawa


	6. Chapter 6

Hi there, Nodoka here.

I guess it's time for another chapter.

Saying anything more is a waste of space, so on with the fic.

Thank you to all those who reviewed, they really do make my day.

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Repercussions - Chapter 6

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The weather was warm, and the sun strong on the back of her off-white kimono as Motoko strode easily through the grounds of her family's home. The apprehension that would have poisoned her mood in years past was almost gone – the young heir of the Shinmei-ryu was feeling more and more comfortable with the title she would one day inherit. Her main fears of years gone by, of inadequacy and inferiority, had slowly dissolved. Endless practice, combined with the regular opportunity to use her more difficult techniques on an apparently immortal subject, had given the girl confidence in her abilities.

The only thing that prevented her from striding up to her elder sister at this very moment and declaring her intent to take over the school was the knowledge of what she would be leaving behind. The support and love of her housemates, her surrogate sisters, had made just as big an impact as her dedicated training. They, along with that perverted Kanrinin of hers, had given her self-belief, self-respect.

The Kendoist turned to gaze out across a tranquil pond, surface barely disturbed by the movement of the Koi within. The perverted Kanrinin…..much as Motoko wished to ignore it, he had been crucial as anyone to her newfound belief. From trying to cheer her up when she was at the nadir of her existence, to fighting alongside her despite the odds and his injuries, to supporting her choices no matter what they were. Motoko could honestly say that she felt a distinct fondness for Keitaro. She had even stated this fact to him during that crazy pursuit to catch Naru only months ago.

But he had clearly chosen Naru, and Naru seemed to have accepted him. This fact still made her stomach feel like it was being gnawed at by a small but determined rodent, one with very sharp teeth. The rejection drove the girl back towards her old feelings – it became easier to once again assume that the man was like 'all' males. A pervert. A creature below her notice. The numerous compromising positions and 'accidents' that still occurred almost daily were nothing but confirmation of this; they helped the girl to believe her denial.

But still, a tiny, nagging voice sat deep in her conscience whispered that it was easier to say an easy lie than admit a difficult truth. That it was easier to discount Keitaro as unworthy than come to terms with the fact she was more than just fond of the Kanrinin, a man in love with someone else. It was tough at times, living with the new couple. The same old destruction took place, some of which was down to Motoko letting out her frustrations on the most readily available target. But the moments in between, the genuine fondness in the smiles, the shared looks when they thought no-one was watching…..

Motoko shook herself with an annoyed growl, despising the hint of bile at the back of her throat. Trying to clear her mind, the elegant young lady took a long, heavy breath whilst scanning the sculpted gardens. The trees perfect as ever, yet looking oddly bare. Come spring, cherry blossoms would adorn both their branches and the stone pathways which wove their labyrinthine way between lawns, through copses and over crystal streams. Feeling the bitterness ease, Motoko managed a half-smile at the scene. This was where she had first learnt of true peace, where she wished to search for it once again.

"Motoko-san." Came a serene voice from behind her. The raven-haired girl turned slowly until her elder sister came into view, looking beautiful and poised as ever.

"Tsuruko-san." Motoko replied evenly, bowing respectfully at the waist. As she straightened, the younger woman noted her sister eyeing her with a touch of amusement. Puzzled, she regarded Tsuruko in puzzlement. Puzzlement that turned to surprise as her usually precise and deliberate sister swiftly smothered her in a joyous hug.

"Ah, oneechan. You always have been traditional to the end." Stepping to one side and leaving an arm slung across the slightly unnerved girl's shoulders, Tsuruko began guiding her towards the main entrance to the family home. "Come, now. There is much that has happened, and I don't doubt that mother will be keen to see you also….."

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The greetings went on for much of the afternoon, and Motoko was quite happy to escape to one of the numerous dojos that were dotted around the complex. There was an odd buzz about the family, an excitement that was bubbling just below the surface. About what, the heir did not know. With a mental shrug the swords woman decided she would know soon enough, and began performing some light stretches in preparation for a period of meditation.

Her danger sense alerted her just in time.

Flipping backwards Motoko caught a flash of silver scything through the spot she had occupied milliseconds earlier. Landing deftly, the girl brought the Hina blade up in time to parry the next blow, one that would have removed her left arm at the shoulder. Silver ground against silver for a moment, and the girl gritted her teeth as she pushed against the overwhelming force threatening to snap her in half. The pressure ceased suddenly as it began, and the young swords woman barely managed to keep her balance at the unexpected shift. In an instant her poise had recovered, and she scanned her surroundings for her assailant.

"It is good to see that your skills have not dimmed, Motoko-chan." Tsuruko's melodic voice sounded from her left, and the kendoist turned warily to regard her sister. The elegant lady was stood only feet away, appearing utterly at ease, katana sheathed. Motoko wasn't fooled. Her sister was always keen to test her progress, and today would be no different.

"I am glad you think so, Tsuruko-san." Keeping her guard up, the younger woman eyed her opponent speculatively. "But to attack someone unprepared? That is most unlike you, oneesan. If it were someone other than I, I do not doubt that the blow would have been at the very least crippling."

"It is not pleasant to be attacked when you lack the ability to defend yourself, is it oneechan?" Tsuruko said with a small smile. "I wished to see if your senses were sharp as ever, I would have no intention of doing such a thing to one I was unsure could evade my strike." Her smile growing, the school master drew her katana with blood-chilling confidence. "Now come, I wish to examine your skills. Do not hold back, Motoko-chan, for I will surely not…..

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Motoko studied herself in the mirror, wincing at a few of the bruises she carried in various places. Tsuruko certainly hadn't been joking when she promised a thorough examination; the red marks across her torso and a streak of purple marring her jaw were testament to that. Thankfully her sister had switched to a blunted training sword after the initial assault. No point in bringing deadly weapons to bear for a mere exercise.

The girl allowed a brief moment of self-congratulation. She had, in fact, slipped a blow through Tsuruko's defences, catching her in the ribs. That had proven to be a mistake, as it turned out. Soon as the shot landed, a demon seemed to erupt in her opponent, one that had relentlessly hounded Motoko with an intensity she had never seen before until she had been forced to yield. The fact she had forced her normally implacable and controlled elder sister to abandon her ethereal persona and go all-out gave the young woman cause for celebration. All the same, she hadn't anticipated such a fierce response to a single successful attack.

Slipping her robe from slim shoulders, Motoko's thoughts turned to the comments at the end of their bout. She had yielded at the point of her sister's sword, a submission that was met with a warm smile and an offered hand. As she'd dusted herself down, Tsuruko had taken a step back with a thoughtful expression, before giving her opinion.

"It seems you progress day by day, oneechan." She had said, with no little pride. "You are not ready yet for the position of house leader, however."

"And why is that, oneesan?" Her elder sister had given a dry chuckle, sheathing her dulled blade.

"Two reasons. One, you do not yet fight to win, you fight to survive." She held up a hand, forestalling Motoko's reply. "I know, you do not believe yourself my equal. You are closer than you anticipate, Motoko-chan. Much closer. The day you are ready to take the position as head of house, you will fight me with only one aim – to emerge victorious." At her acceptance of the fact, her older sister's face had darkened and her tone dropped.

"The second reason is…..you lack insight, Motoko-chan." This statement had caused much confusion on the part of the younger girl.

"What do you mean, Tsuruko-san? I understand what you meant perfectly." A slow shake of the head was the response.

"You do not, Motoko-chan. If you understood what I meant, you would not have just disagreed." At this ambiguous statement, her older sister had turned to exit, mentioning that she would be taking a bath in half an hour.

Motoko still puzzled over what Tsuruko had meant by her last words. She knew what her sister meant perfectly. She didn't fight to win because, in all honesty, she didn't really want to win as of yet. Her life away from the house of Aoyama was very enjoyable, and not one she wished to leave any time soon. If she knew and accepted this fact, how could she lack insight?

Sighing in frustration, the svelte woman regarded her nude form in the mirror. Normally flawless skin bearing several ugly purple and red streaks, strewn haphazardly across her chest and abdomen, standing out like bloodstained snow upon her pale complexion. Most of these would be hidden beneath clothing, however the face injury would need dealing with. It was the way of the Aoyama clan to always appear pristine and flawless no matter how grievous the injury. Tracing a particularly nasty bruise, running from just below her left breast down towards her right hip, Motoko once again found herself wondering about the intensity of her sister's attack. The ferocity was undeniable, but she could have sworn she saw a trace of…..fear?

With a shrug the girl donned a bathrobe and picked up her towels and left her room, happily anticipating her upcoming bath. The outdoor springs rivalled those at the Hinata-sou, and she had spent many pleasurable hours in it as a child, often easing her aches after an intensive training session. Much like today, in fact.

Disregarding the 'occupied' sign on the door, Motoko entered the outer chamber and hung her gown on an empty hook before scrubbing herself thoroughly, erasing the dirt and sweat accumulated by her earlier sparring. Feeling refreshed, the swords woman scooped up her towels and slid the inner door open.

And found herself meeting the gaze of a handsome, brown-haired man sitting in the waist-deep water.

Her hand reached for her sword before she even realised it wasn't there.

Plan B then.

"Pervert!" The cry echoed through the evening air, and she launched herself towards the intruder, intent on emulating Naru's oft-used technique.

She came to a shuddering stop as a hand caught her fist mid-swing.

"The last time I checked, these baths were not gender specific. I see nothing wrong with inviting my husband to share the water with me, Motoko." The hold was released, and Motoko hurriedly stepped back, quailing at the furious glare upon Tsuruko's face. "However, I do feel something is incorrect when my younger sister attempts to injure an unarmed man, a family member no less, for no more a crime than enjoying a peaceful evening in the hot springs."

"B-but, he's a perv-"

"The occupied sign is on display, is it not? You intruded on him, did you not?" Tsuruko paused in her withering assault, and folded her arms firmly. "So, the question must be posed – who is truly at fault?"

"A-ah, uhm, well….." Motoko looked desperately from Tsuruko to her husband (who was studiously examining his fingernails) and back again. Suddenly, her normal frame of reference was shaken. Her fault? How could it be her fault? She had been seen naked by the lecherous eyes of a male, and it was her that was culpable for blame?

"Think on this Motoko, and think well. Does intrusion without intent necessitate such an accusation? Does mere oversight warrant the use of swift and deadly force? _Does it?!_" Panicked and upset in equal measure, Motoko did the only thing she could.

Ran.

As the door slammed and footsteps echoed down the hall, Tsuruko stared at the empty spot for a moment until a warm male voice came from behind her.

"Are you sure you're not being too hard on her." The slender woman shook her head slowly, before replying in a low tone.

"No. It has to be this way." Tsuruko looked down to the floor, coal-black hair obscuring her face. "I won't have my sister making the mistakes that have been made in the past. I will not let her!" The tension radiating through her toned form evaporated the instant a pair of warm arms wrapped around her abdomen.

"She won't. She has you to guide her to the correct path." The eyes threatening tears cleared like the sky after a storm has passed, and the elder Aoyama sister turned to fully enjoy her beloved's embrace.

"I do not like this. I do not, but done it must be."

"I know." One masculine arm dropped down to her knees, and suddenly Tsuruko found herself being carried bridal-style back towards the hot water.

"If you ever do this in front of anyone else, you will experience pain the likes of which few have ever known." The man chuckled at the frosty admonishment, stepping down into the wet warmth.

"Don't pretend you don't like it." The young lady returned the laugh, relaxing into his clutches.

"Oh, I never said that……"

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Motoko shook herself out of her reverie. Her humiliation, to not put too fine a point on it, in the hot baths was only the first of many over the next few weeks. Not a day seemed to go by when she didn't trip over something that didn't seem to even exist a split-second before, and land in a compromising position. Or walk in on someone else, usually male, taking a bath. Or see someone in an improper state of dress, which usually led to accusation of voyeurism. It took little intelligence to surmise who was behind it.

The kendoist sighed at the memory. What did actually take intelligence, or to be more specific _insight_ was to see what her sister was actually getting at. Who would have thought someone in the Hinata Sou was actually trading correspondence with her sister. More than one person, in fact. Not who she might have expected, either. However, this was just a fraction of the whole story. She would learn the real impetus behind her sister's actions almost a month later…..

"Ah, Motoko-san!" Shinobu smiled, carrying a teapot out to the table. "I was about to call you, would you mind gathering the others together? Things are almost ready." With that the petite chef almost skipped back into the kitchen. Motoko couldn't help but chuckle. Shinobu was transparent as the night air.

"As you wish." With that the young woman made an about-turn, deciding to collect Su first. The Molmolian was more than happy to announce the presence of food to the entire world, something that made her job a lot quicker……

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Lunch had gone down very well, although two of those at the table seemed to have little in the way of appetite. One of the two in question had retired to her room minutes ago, and the second of the two was staring at the stairs with something between determination and dread. Of the rest, one was inevitably washing up, and another (equally inevitably) had wandered off, probably to either study form guides or get hammered. Motoko had announced her intention to meditate, and Su…..

…..Best not to even guess. In any case, the last pair found themselves face-to-face near the door. Something that pleased Haruka quite a lot.

"So, Mutsumi-chan." The older woman struck a match and lit up. "It has been eventful, ne?"

"Yes, that is a good summary of the situation Haruka-san." Two innocent brown orbs peered back at the cigarette smoker, and for a moment Haruka felt that her hunch had to be completely wrong. Mutsumi couldn't possibly have orchestrated things, could she?

"One thing I am interested in……" Taking a deep drag on her worst habit, Haruka decided to come out with it straight. "…..Was what you did that night."

"Ara, what night are we referring to, Haruka-san?" Something in the response spiked the smoker's interest straight away. Mutsumi wasn't stupid - there was only one night she could be referring to. The Okinawan had obviously decided to play the clueless card, which might have worked.

But she had jumped the gun.

And Haruka already had her answer.

"I think you know which one, Mutsumi-chan. Night before last. Ring any bells?" Mutsumi posed 'thinking' with finger on chin, causing Haruka to grin around her cigarette. The Okinawan was a terrible, terrible actress.

"Ara, the night before last…..that one! Oh, yes." The busty brunette smiled gently at Keitaro's 'aunt'. "What is it you are so interested about?"

"As I said, what you did that night. As in the five minutes before Naru first tried to take Kei's head off." The smile became even more blank, and Mutsumi once again moved into 'thinking' position.

"Oh, if I remember rightly I had been talking to Kitsune-chan. She was telling me it had been years since she had 'gotten off' as she put it, and really needed a 'nice piece of man-meat' to 'get her teeth into'." The Okinawan had the good grace to blush. "I informed her that I couldn't really help her, but that there was a man present. She mumbled something about being embarrassed, so I offered to ask him to dance for her. He was happy to oblige."

"Right." Haruka was unconvinced. Her neph- no, relative had been spun into the fox's arms without any hint of a warning, or even a word passed. "And then as for asking Naru if she wanted a drink?"

"Ara, she seemed to have had too many. I was going to offer her some water." Mutsumi offered blandly. "On second thoughts, it may have been bad timing." The woman stood in front of her exhaled a plume of smoke into the air.

"So why was it you were filling her glass with sake?" The gentle-faced girl froze, and brown eyes met brown eyes. They both knew the last fact had signed and sealed the deal.

For a moment one set of eyes begged the other to drop the line of questioning, but the only reply was stony refusal. Eventually the contact was broken, and Mutsumi took a shuddering breath.

"Okay, okay. I'll admit it, I wanted Kitsune to hang all over Keitaro. I wanted Naru to see it." Haruka didn't say a word, she didn't need to. Mutsumi never could hold on to a lie, it just wasn't in her to do so. "I was just so tired of the way things went round and round and round. I gave up on him, gave him to her. And she abused it, Haruka-san. She adored the way he would come crawling back, time after time, no matter what." Mutsumi sniffled a little, reaching for a handkerchief in her skirt pocket. "She loves him, I have no doubt. But what she really loves is the adoration, the loyalty. Kei was being used, and I couldn't do anything to make him see it. I wouldn't _allow_ myself to do anything." The Okinawan finished bitterly, staring at the varnished floor.

"So you decided to nudge Naru out of the way….."

"NO!" Haruka was shocked. Mutsumi never, ever shouted at anyone. And whilst this wasn't quite a shout, it was close. "No, that's not it, Haruka-san." The mahogany-haired girl continued in a more subdued tone. "I didn't push anyone aside; I would never, ever do such a thing!" She dabbed at her eyes gingerly, sniffling again. "I just wanted to…..bring things to a head. I couldn't stand to watch any more."

"You know, I was thinking exactly the same thing myself." Murmured Haruka, taking a reflective puff on her cigarette. "I'm really fed up with the way they endlessly danced around each other. Thought it was about time they put up or shut up. Mind you, I wouldn't have gone out of my way to light the fuse."

"Ara, perhaps it was presumptuous of me. I hoped that if I pushed the right buttons, well…..." The two women noticed movement from the dining room, and turned just in time to see Keitaro walk up the stairs, shoulders squared.

"Keitaro told me he was going to talk with Naru. Looks like your plan worked perfectly." Haruka stared at the now empty staircase for a few seconds, until an odd noise drew her attention back to the woman stood beside her. It was obvious what the odd noise was as soon as she set eyes on Mutsumi. The normally cheerful girl was hiccupping quietly, wringing her hanky in white-knuckled hands. Haruka was completely taken aback, it took a few seconds for her arm to snake out and wrap itself around Mutsumi's shoulders.

"I-I'm sorry, Haruka-san. It's just…..I feel so awful….." The girl moaned, looking utterly wretched. "I know I'm going to lose either way."

"What do you mean, Mutsumi-chan?" Murmured Haruka, rifling through her memories for any similar occurrences in the past, and coming up blank. This was truly out of the ordinary.

"If they make up, I lose my chance at Kei-kun, maybe forever. But if they don't, I'm going to spend my life wondering if it was because of me……" Mutsumi choked, before accepting the embrace that was offered to her.

"I suppose this is why you shouldn't interfere with other people's business." Haruka said quietly, only to find herself staring at close range into a pair of wet brown eyes, eyes that carried a heavy burden.

"It was for Kei-kun, only for him. I would do anything for Kei, even if it means having to carry it for the rest of my days. Please believe me, Haruka-san, it's for him, for them to finally make up their minds….." With that the dam broke and Mutsumi buried her face in the older woman's shoulder, sobbing quietly. Haruka stood stock still, mind awhirl, uncaring that her cigarette had gone out.

At long last things would come to a head. She believed Mutsumi without a doubt, the girl was utterly incapable of deception, and had obviously been suffocating beneath a blanket of guilt. Haruka was proud of her in all honesty - the Okinawan had dared to do what she hadn't.

Now all there was to do was wait.

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Mitsune slunk into Keitaro's room, after cautiously spying him taking a turn onto the staircase to the third floor. The fox didn't plan on being caught in his room, but had the usual excuses stored up in readiness. Leading off with seeking sake money, with the fall back option of direct flirting if needs be.

Although painful, Motoko's lesson had not endured on the ever-curious woman's memory. Hence her return, seeking clues. Anything, anything at all that might suggest what on earth the Kanrinin was really up to. Something in her mind questioned why she should be so interested in the personal affairs of the only man she could call 'friend', but it was shushed by the side of her that wrote it off as her natural curiosity.

The fox had to know what was going on in her territory after all.

After a few moments rifling, Mitsune had to admit it was all a little on the disappointing side. Underwear drawers contained only underwear, dull stuff at that. Futon clean and pristine, wardrobe annoyingly innocent. Not even a porno mag, for goodness sake. Was the guy even human? Hell, she had more pictures of naked women than Keitaro, and she _was_ a woman for god's sake.

An open minded one, yes, but a woman all the same.

Feeling thoroughly grumpy, the silver-haired girl gave the room another sweep with her glance. It had never struck her how bare the room really was, it was as if Keitaro was reluctant to put any kind of mark on it. Like it was only being occupied, not lived in. The only minor adornment was the small stool sat beside the table, something the fox had never noticed before. The cushion looked plush, the solid wooden frame it sat upon ornately carved in a style that she didn't recognise. Compared to the rest of the room it seemed a little out of place, not something she would expect her Kanrinin to own.

Something she might expect Motoko to own…..

In a flash the fox was carefully examining the stool, curiosity piqued. This may have been the present Motoko had alluded to, but she had never seen. Come to think of it, it was too high to be of use for the floor-level table, but not really high enough to be used as a foot stool. Also, come to think of it, stools weren't usually solid – this looked more like a box with a cushion on top.

A box.

The maroon cushion proved tricky to remove, but once Mitsune found the catch on one side it lifted off on well oiled hinges. Then the fox was faced with……bare wood. With a 'humph' of annoyance, the grey-eyed girl almost flipped the cushion back in disgust. But her sixth sense tapped her on the shoulder and reminded her that someone had surely put the hinge there for a reason. A few more seconds of investigation and – there it was. A tiny groove, just big enough to slide a fingertip into. Mitsune needed no invitation. A moment of levering, and a thin square of wood lifted off easily.

The 'party girl' set it to one side carefully, and allowed herself a few seconds of self-congratulation. Nothing was too devious for the fox to decipher! Eager to finally uncover the closely guarded secret, the girl dropped to her knees, and peered into the carefully concealed compartment.

What she saw was not exactly what she was expecting. What she was expecting exactly she couldn't say, but this wasn't on the list. The fox carefully rummaged around the box, checking for any more concealed compartments.

Nothing.

So this was the sum total of what Motoko and Keitaro had been getting up to. And she had suspected something perverted, or at least odd. This was odd, but not in the way she had been anticipating.

A soft knocking made Mitsune spring up in shock and spin around, half expecting to see Motoko ready to perform divine, or at least very painful, punishment. The doorway was empty.

"Come in." Naru's voice came from above her, followed by the sound of a door sliding open.

"Naru-san." Keitaro's voice, quite stiff.

"Keitaro-san." Naru's reply, equally stiff. Mitsune grimaced gently – it looked to her like the fall-out was about to really begin.

"Mind if I sit?" The fox wanted to leave, she really did. It was just her damn feet wouldn't let her. They rooted her to the floor, intent on having her listen.

It would be interesting to see how this played out.

The fox wasn't truly sure which way she wanted things to end……

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Naru examined her room carefully. Everything in its place, everything just so. Good.

She'd show that ex-ronin for what he was suggesting.

The girl fiddled carelessly with her bandaged hand, still more concerned than she'd admit about what might have gone on whilst she was out of her head. There was more to the story than Mutsumi had told her, that was for sure.

A quiet knocking drew her attention to the door, and she took a deep breath she didn't know she needed to take.

"Come in." It slid open, revealing her Kanrinin, and at present, boyfriend.

"Naru-san." Said Keitaro quietly, giving her an even look.

"Keitaro-san." She replied equally levelly, trying to gauge the man's mood. She may as well be reading Dutch – she was getting nothing.

"Mind if I sit?" Keitaro asked politely, indicating the table she was primly seated at. She replied with a nod, and the Kanrinin strode towards her.

It was at this point everything went to hell. All thanks to a loose shoelace.

A loose shoelace on the Kanrinin's left shoe, which was stepped on by the man's right when he was approximately glomping distance from Naru. The result, a full-length face-first fall, right towards his temperamental girlfriend. Naru scrambled backwards as Keitaro twisted mid-fall, landing with his head barely a foot from her lap in what was undoubtedly a very painful face plant.

Naru's face began to turn red, and metaphorical steam began pouring from her ears as she got slowly to her feet, venomously regarding the prone form of her boyfriend lain groggily on the floor.

_Damn him!_ Naru fumed, ire growing by the second. _I do everything he asks of me, and then he __**still**__ tries to get a free feel! _

Sensing the room temperature increasing by several degrees every second, Keitaro peeled his bleeding face from the floor and looked up at the enraged girl towering over him. The ronin knew what was coming, and inwardly sighed in resignation. Best to at least keep up appearances, then.

"Naru-san, I'm sorry! I didn't mean-" Whatever followed was only heard by passing birds, as a patented Naru-punch blew the Kanrinin through the window and out into the sunlit sky.

Naru huffed for a second, feeling her ire recede. It was at this point reality caught up to her, and her honey eyes slammed open in shock. Two facts had suddenly flashed into her mind, both agonising in totally different ways.

One, Keitaro had missed. Missed. As in fell, but didn't land on her. Twisted out of the way, in fact. She had moved back enough to prevent a full-scale glomp, but still would have ended up with a lapful of Kanrinin. He had avoided her, and probably landed a broken nose in the process. It did look like a simple trip, one that could have happened anywhere.

She had jumped to conclusions. That in falling towards her, he must have been trying to steal a grope.

And she'd sent him flying across Tokyo.

The brown-haired girl bit back a sob as the realisation of what she'd just done hit her harder than one of her own punches. She'd made the same mistake yet again.

She wasn't sure she would get another chance to make the mistake.

"Naru, what-" Mitsune sprung in through the door in time to see her friend sink to the ground clutching her hand, this time failing to hold in the sob that slipped through her lips.

The second fact Naru was learning was that someone with a broken hand should never, ever punch someone with enough force to send them into low earth orbit.

Shit, it _hurt._

"Mitsune, call a doctor. I think I've smashed my hand to bits." The silver fox hurriedly complied with her friend's hissed. Whatever had happened could wait until later.

Somehow, Mitsune doubted it was good.

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Mitsune had indeed called for the doctor, who had simply told her to take the injured girl direct to hospital. Deciding not to involve Haruka, Mitsune had taken a gamble and called Seta. The ever scruffy man was happy to pick her up, although his tone was slightly less cheerful than usual – the fox assumed that he wasn't overly happy with the situation either.

One of the most telling moments was Mitsune helping Naru out of the Hinata-sou; of all the other residents, only Haruka stepped in to offer assistance. Mutsumi was oddly absent, Su subdued on Motoko's shoulders, who was watching proceedings with an air of cool irritation. Shinobu barely peeked out of the kitchen, and Mitsune noted nothing more than annoyance before she was gone again. Not quite the outpouring of support and comfort that might have been expecting.

Obviously, the balance of guilt had shifted within the house more than Mitsune or Naru had known.

Then came a hair-raising van journey with a curious Sarah McDougal, who continually asked the honey-eyed if she had 'nailed the dork good'. Continually, that is, until Naru spontaneously burst into tears, something that confused the blonde preteen no end. Seta in the end rescued the situation, asking his surrogate daughter to instead keep an eye out for police and speed cameras.

The next step was a seemingly eternal wait at one of Tokyo's hospitals. One that was indeterminable and uncomfortable, and this was not only down to the orange plastic seats and numerous wailing children that seemed to be flooding the emergency department. It was the atmosphere between the two waiting together. Their impromptu escort had vanished with orders to call him when they were done, leaving the fox and the student to their own devices. Naru didn't want to talk, whilst Mitsune had, for the first time, no idea what to say to her. Even if she should say anything, given what had passed between them.

So on they waited. And waited.

Eventually they were called. The doctor took one look and asked her if she had punched something, a question Naru hesitantly confirmed. Thankfully, no more enquiries were made as to what she had actually hit, and the lady requested X-rays which had only served to confirm the suspicions.

The good news was no further damage had been done by the second punch.

The bad news was that it was a nasty break. And whilst it wasn't going to need surgery, it would take six weeks in plaster at least to heal. Something that made both girls heads droop in dismay – Naru's at the long wait, and Mitsune at the possibility she might be partly responsible.

The van ride back was subdued. Partially as Sarah was tucked up in bed (translation: watching what she shouldn't and eating ice cream until papa came back) and partially because no-one really seemed inclined to say anything. Even Seta seemed content to just brood and smoke languidly.

When the two actually got back to the Hinata-sou, all the lights were out and the house silent. As if the house itself had turned it's back on the two, refusing to acknowledge their existence. Naru had made her solitary way to her room, and had slumped down onto her futon without turning her lamp on. Which was where she lay ten minutes later, in a muddled haze.

The girl held her plastered arm up in front of her, and stared at it blankly. Now she was finally back home, back here, she could think. About what had happened, and what it meant.

Sure, the two of them had not gotten off on the right foot. To be honest, they got off on as wrong a foot as was humanly possible. And things hadn't been pleasant between them for quite some time. She had seen him as a pervert, a man out to see what he could get from a house full of nubile and innocent girls. Well, mostly nubile and innocent, anyways.

Slowly, with time, she had become fond of the multiple-times-ronin. She wasn't sure exactly when it happened, but all the same it was there. Fondness grew to affection, then affection grew to…..

…..To love.

There. Truth admitted. She loved Keitaro. Loved his silly mannerisms, loved his awkward grin. Loved his seemingly endless, undying devotion and love for her.

She didn't like the 'accidents'. The times he 'fell' into interesting positions, the 'mistakes' that led to the opportunity to feed his male desire for female flesh. Every fall had become an attempt to see her, every mistake was an attempt to deny her feminine modesty, to reveal what she wasn't ready to reveal.

She had seen it all before, hell, she had experienced it all before. In all honesty, her assumptions couldn't be that wrong, could they?

It seemed they could.

Looking back, she_ had_ seen Mitsune removing 'in use' signs from the springs. She _had_ seen one of Su's inventions blow the Kanrinin through Shinobu's door while she was changing. She _had_ spotted something the Kanrinin couldn't see with an armful of laundry moments before the inevitable trip and fall-into-compromising-position.

She _had_ seen him stand on his own shoelace, and then avoid falling on top of her.

What she hadn't done was give him the benefit of the doubt, or even see any doubt there to give the benefit of.

The girl cursed some of the people she used to know, cursed the very reasons she had moved to the Hinata-sou and met Keitaro in the first place. Damn her knee-jerk reactions.

Knee-jerk reactions or not, she still had to apologise. Galling as it was, Naru accepted that she held at least part of the blame. She loved her Kanrinin, her boyfriend, too much to pretend nothing was wrong. She had to admit it, admit that she was afraid of being touched by a man. Then ask him for his patience, and his forgiveness. Nodding in resolution, the honey-eyed girl shuffled over to Liddo-kun and carefully placed him aside before gazing at the sheet of wood still in place.

A deep breath in, a deep breath out. Now or never.

Naru grasped the wood, and slid it back. And stared blankly downwards. In a single beat, her heart seemed to shatter like broken glass.

Slowly, the girl rocked back from her haunches, into a sitting position. Equally slowly, she lay back onto the polished floor, hands reaching for her face.

Seconds later, a soft weeping began to permeate the peaceful night air.

Liddo-kun watched on, smiling as ever.

He wouldn't be needed to stand guard any more.

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Keitaro felt his eyes filling up as muffled sobs crept through his ceiling, now complete and solid.

It had been hard, very hard boarding it up. He was drawing a line under his dream, and allowing it to drift away to wherever dreams go when they die.

But he couldn't take any more. He had given up. Naru-chan was now Naru-san, and his promised girl was no more.

As the soft hiccupping of the girl above him flowed river-like, bubbling and endless, into his devastated mind, the Kanrinin wished he could close his ears. To shut out the echoing of the decision he had made, to ignore the reflection of his own agony pouring from the one who felt it just the same.

But he couldn't.

So the night was spent mopping his own face free of its moisture until, at long long last, the river of anguish slowed to a trickle, and finally stopped.

Keitaro suddenly realised how empty his room sounded without the vague sighing of breathing in slumber, a sound he had grown to love, one that had been deafened by his choice.

But all the same, it had to be this way.

"I'm sorry, Naru….." The man whispered to no-one, before curling up to wait for the sleep he was sure would never come.

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I think I'll end things there.

Please leave a review, if you enjoyed my writing.

Until Next time.

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 time.

Thanks to all those who reviewed, I appreciate each and every one. Special thanks go out to Tezza and life song – I really enjoy your writing and appreciate that you've taken time to appreciate mine

I'll get around to leaving reviews at some point I hope...

And as for the proposal, well, I'm kinda semi taken. Doesn't mean I don't appreciate the sentiment though!

Anyways, time for the next chapter.

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Repercussions – Chapter 7

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Mutsumi stared at the wintry sky outside, wishing the snow would stop. A fresh fall had come overnight, and had persisted into the morning, ruining the work that had been done to bring the city back to normal. Normally the Okinawan loved the snow, but today…..

She'd give anything to be able to escape the cauldron of dark emotion that was the Hinata-sou, even if just for a few hours.

The fate of Keitaro and Naru became obvious from the moment she'd heard the sound of breaking masonry, and seen Kanrinin's ashen face as he slipped quietly back into the Hinata-sou following his last unscheduled flight. Breakfast had only served to confirm her suspicions – Keitaro had attended looking surprisingly fresh, but bearing a smile so plastic she expected it to melt when it came into contact with his teacup.

Naru hadn't arrived at all.

Mealtimes, in Mutsumi's experience, gave a good idea of how the house as a whole was faring. Today had been uncomfortable to say the least. The only cheery face was Shinobu, something that she could tell grated slightly on Keitaro's nerves. To take any kind of happiness out of the day before…..it wasn't only Naru's heart that had been broken. It was a sign of Shinobu's immaturity that she didn't realise no-one had really benefited from the break-up, least of all her Kanrinin.

Su on the other hand seemed acutely aware of the gravity of the situation, something that surprised Mutsumi a little. The Molmolian's only action of the morning was to give Keitaro a genuine hug – not a glomp – and rub her face cat-like against his before placidly beginning her breakfast. Motoko had been implacable as usual, but her dark eyes never left the only man at the table. Haruka wore her typical stoicism like an overcoat, obviously hoping no-one noticed how her cigarette trembled in her fingers as she tried to light it.

Mitsune was the interesting one. Her line of sight had consistently flickered between Keitaro and Motoko, spending quite some time on each of them. Something was obviously on her mind, but even the normally bullish girl had deduced that now was not the time to air dirty laundry.

Keitaro had only spent enough time at the table to be considered polite before excusing himself. It seemed Shinobu was going to go after him, but a subtle hand on her wrist accompanied by a tiny head shake from Motoko had stopped her in her tracks. The Kendoist was right; the last thing Keitaro needed was someone celebrating the fact he had given up on his promised girl.

It was a good twenty seconds before anyone said a word.

"I heard hammering yesterday evening. Was Keitaro repairing his door?" Shinobu asked, pouring herself another cup of tea.

"Yes he was, Shinobu-chan." Motoko answered evenly, sipping at her own drink, obviously keen for the subject to change.

"The hammering went on for a long time….." Motoko set her cup down, and gazed levelly at the younger girl.

"I know what you are truly asking. Why not come out and say it, and cease dancing around the issue?" Shinobu flushed slightly, and Mutsumi felt her eyebrows rise. Motoko being short with Shinobu? Perhaps it wasn't only Keitaro that disliked the way the youngest resident was taking the news.

"O-okay. Was he boarding up the hole in his ceiling?" Everyone around the table froze, food suddenly forgotten. All attention shifted to Motoko, who was staring down at the table. Eventually, she simply nodded.

The cigarette fell out of Haruka's mouth.

Everyone sat in the circle exchanged wide-eyed looks, excepting Motoko who was sat perfectly still, eyes closed. Predictably, it was Mitsune who broke the silence.

"Shit, he's _serious_." Whilst not exactly eloquent, it summed up the situation perfectly.

"Ara….." Mutsumi felt herself growing faint, and put her head down on the table. That was a declaration of finality beyond measure.

"He requested my assistance once he returned yesterday. Informed me he had something important to do, but needed my help." All eyes shifted to the swordswoman, who was sat statuesque with eyes firmly shut. "I acceded, only to find the request somewhat unusual. He desired that I hold him a swords-point until he had completed a task, one he would otherwise surely fail to accomplish. You may say I was…..surprised…..by the task he had in mind." A tiny tremor passed through the rigidly posed girl, and her normally sharp and concise voice became thick as treacle. "I will not express what passed in that hour, need me only say it was an experience I would not wish to endure again." Mutsumi and Haruka suddenly understood the Kendoist's expression, and both felt a pang of sympathy.

This was Motoko at the end of her tether.

"It's okay, Motoko-chan." Su repeated her earlier actions on Motoko, looking more morose than anyone at the Hinata-sou could remember.

"Thank you, Su-chan." Sensing Su's ministrations having destructive effects on her self-control, the young woman quickly excused herself and just as quickly fled upstairs.

"Poor Motoko." Haruka murmured, finally remembering to stub out the smouldering cigarette that now resided on the floor.

"Yeah." Mitsune replied, pushing her plate away gently. "I think I've stomached enough for this morning. See you later, girls." With a not-so-casual wave, the fox eased herself up and left the table herself. Shortly after that, the others excused themselves one-by-one, until Mutsumi had recovered enough from her faint spell to leave herself.

And hence the brown-haired girl was sat in her room on her own, feeling thoroughly woebegone. Despite Haruka's reassurance the day before that this was an inevitable event, she couldn't help but feel guilty. Especially each time she remembered the face of the man she loved at the table.

He looked like someone who had learned heaven was nothing more than a dream.

A soft knocking startled the girl. Who could be coming to see her?

"Come in." The door slid sideways, and a figure cloaked in a steel blue kimono bowed slowly.

"Mutsumi-san." The Okinawan was surprised. Of all the people she'd expect to see, Motoko was probably footing the list.

"Motoko-san. Please, come in." The slender woman complied, shutting the door behind her. Pausing a moment, the Kendoist took in the décor of the room. Each occupant had their own taste it seemed – and whilst her chosen colour was white and Shinobu's blue, it seemed Mutsumi liked green.

Taking a seat on the edge of the plush chair the other girl indicated, Motoko took a deep breath. She had no idea why she'd chosen Mutsumi to talk to – it just seemed like the right person. The only other one at the Hinata-sou that felt the same way she did about the whole affair. Motoko could see it mirrored in the other girl's face, manifested in her aura. Sadness and regret in equal measure, at the end of an era, and at her part in it. But just there, alongside these overriding feelings, was a tiny sliver of the guiltiest pleasure. Pleasure that the torrid cycle was over.

Pleasure that the Kanrinin was now free. Available.

"Thank you, Mutsumi-san." Motoko arranged herself properly, before continuing. "I wish to state my admiration at your bravery in bringing matters to a conclusion. I was not there late that night, but I have heard enough honest reports to deduce your part in the events." Sensing Mutsumi beginning to respond, the black-haired girl raised a polite hand. "Do not worry. You bear no guilt in the proceedings; your only action was to bring about a much-needed ultimatum." The brown-haired girl was cheered by Motoko's words, but at the same time puzzled.

"Well thank you Motoko-san, but I feel I still have a weight to bear. I can't say that I didn't add pressure, which may have affected how matters played out." The woman opposite nodded slowly in acceptance at her admission, before grimacing slightly.

"None the less, I feel I hold greater blame for the events of yesterday." Motoko seemed to steel herself, visibly stiffening her posture. Mutsumi, her own guilt temporarily forgotten, looked on in bafflement.

"What do you mean, Motoko-san?"

"I mean, I am at least partially responsible." The swordswoman adapted the position she assumed whilst at breakfast. "I sense that you feel guilt at the happenings of yesterday, hence I wished to visit you to alleviate you of yours whilst admitting my own."

"What responsibility do you have?"

"Keitaro asked me for advice, how to decide once and for all if he could trust Naru to give him a fair hearing. I advised him on a course of action, one that led to the events of yesterday. However, I did so knowing that Naru was unlikely to react well." The black-haired girl took a heavy breath. "You see, I understand Naru's reasoning. Hence, consciously or not, I selected a plan that would almost doubtless end in failure….."

Motoko explained the meaning behind her words as Mutsumi sat and listened, engrossed in the story, whilst the snow fell peacefully outside.

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Mitsune had slunk around the Hinata-sou for much of the day, growing gloomy at the lack of company. Motoko had almost vanished, and everyone else seemed content to just vegetate in their respective rooms. She had tried to see Naru, but the girl had been asleep when she called – whether she was faking or not, the fox knew the time wasn't right for deep conversation. Hence the consumption of a fair few bottles of alcohol, in a vain attempt to ignore the massive mess she was an unwilling part of.

However, the naturally gregarious girl grew bored, and the combination of sake and anxiety bolstered her curiosity. She didn't intend to question Naru or Keitaro as to whether she should cancel the wedding invitations just yet.

It didn't mean she couldn't bring up other matters.

Hence her knocking the Kanrinin's door, trying to fend off the feeling she was bothering someone who really didn't need it at present. Seconds passed before the door slid open slightly, revealing a pair of blank eyes peering back. The staring match lasted a few seconds, before the door was fully opened.

"Kitsune-san." Keitaro stated blandly, waving her into the room. "I was wondering when you would come by." The silver-haired girl frowned slightly, walking past him.

"Yeah, why?" She plonked herself down on the footstool, drawing a tiny wince from the Kanrinin as she did so.

"Well, I reasoned you would be dying to get the news from the horses' mouth. Or perhaps to chew me out for upsetting your best friend. No?" Keitaro took in the confused look from the girl in his room, and then scanned the floor, obviously thinking.

"Actually-"

"Ah!" Keitaro pounded a fist into his palm, seeing the bottle clamped in the fox's hand and coming to a conclusion. "It's been a few days, you're after more Sake money, right?" Seemingly oblivious at the expression forming on Mitsune's face, he paced over to his closet. "We'll forgo the whole flirting business and move straight to the transaction okay? Let's see….." As the man set to rummaging, the girl found herself temporarily unable to protest. Sake money? He thought she was coming to see him for booze funds? Unthinkingly the girl swigged from her bottle, and made a face.

_Oh, and why on earth would he think that, Mitsune? Except for the fact you turn up looking half-cut and smelling like a brewery?_

"Here we are." From somewhere deep in the closet the man had withdrawn a small stash of banknotes, and handed some of them to the stunned fox. "I was saving up for – well I won't be needing it now, so get yourself something nice, right?" Wordlessly Mitsune rolled up the notes and slipped them down her cleavage, somehow unable to get her brain running again. Shock had frozen her to the spot.

_He really thinks that little of me? That I'd rob him blind after yesterday? _

"Well, I guess I'll see you later, Kitsune-san." The silver-haired girl realised that Keitaro had her by the arm and was leading her towards the exit, false cheer well and truly in place. "If you need anything, feel free to give me a shout. It's what I'm here for, being Kanrinin and all." Mitsune was almost in the hall before she woke up enough to slam on the brakes.

"Keitaro-kun….." The man posed a polite smile, and responded in a pleasant tone.

"Yes, Kitsune-san?" It was pleasantness that chafed like ground glass against the fox. He was far too clean cut, far too proper for someone who had recently had his heart broken.

"Kei-kun, I know." Pulling the door closed behind her as she turned, Mitsune continued in a level tone. "I know what you've been doin'."

"Doing?" The man replied, this time not quite so cheerfully. "I don't recall doing anything special, Kitsune-san." The fox didn't bother replying, instead brushing past the Kanrinin and striding over to the supposedly innocent footstool.

"Then whadaya call this?" Keitaro's face fell, and he said nothing. "I knew you were up to somethin' with Motoko, but I never expected….." With that the fox quickly flipped the catch and opened the hidden compartment. Reaching inside, the young lady pulled out several small brushes, and an array of other equipment normally not seen outside a girl's dressing room. "Sorry Kei-kun, but cosmetics? What the hell d'you need these for?"

"Ah….." Keitaro watched stonily as the fox pulled out yet more items. Foundation, creams, even a neutral lipstick.

"Care ta elaborate?" Mitsune pushed, curious. "Look, unless yer a transvestite or a clown, I can't think a' any damn reason you'd need all this stuff. Hell, it's more make-up than I've had since I turned twelve!"

"Why do you care? Just want to crow it for the rest of the world to hear?" The fox winced despite herself as Keitaro's tone dropped to something akin to Motoko on a hunt for blood. It hurt, but Mitsune couldn't help but understand. When had she really shown anything but mercenary intent to the man?

"Kei-kun, I'm sorry. I know I'm not the one ya would want ta know." The silver-haired girl looked up into the stormy brown eyes gazing at her. "But all the same, I do. Believe it or not, I care for ya, Kei-kun. There's gotta be more to it than just some kinda Channel number five fetish." A half-smile almost escaped after the last comment, as the man regarded her evenly. Eventually he came to a conclusion.

"Well, I doubt the whole caring bit." Mitsune's heart sank as the man continued. "But if I don't tell you, you'll just end up spreading your suspicions around. And there are people I don't want to know about this." Keitaro turned away from the fox and reached for a towel. Spraying clear fluid from one of his numerous bottles onto it, he proceeded to scrub his face thoroughly. Eventually, the scrubbing stopped, and the slim figure spoke with a quiet resignation. "Well, ready or not Kitsune-san, here it comes."

The man turned slowly around to face the fox.

A sake bottle rattled to the floor as both of the girl's hands came up to her mouth.

Keitaro's face was a _mess._ Bruises of various ages and sizes strewn across it, one looking viciously fresh. Two or three scars, one particularly long one along his jaw which looked suspiciously professional. All topped off by a blue-black eye, florid as a blooming flower.

"Happy?" Came a bitter voice, and Mitsune realised she was staring. All the same, she couldn't draw her horrified gaze away.

"Kei-kun, what the fuck?!" She suddenly realised that the man was looking haggard as well as beaten, as if the make-up had been more than just to conceal his bruises.

"Seems my immortality isn't quite what it used to be." Keitaro took a seat at the table, staring at its surface. "I still heal fast, but it takes time now. It's been getting steadily worse for the last nine months to be honest." The fox slumped down opposite him, aghast.

"So every time ya got one from Motoko or Naru….."

"Did you really think that a strike hard enough to send someone into the stratosphere wouldn't leave a mark?" Feeling suddenly foolish, not to mention guilty as hell, Mitsune shrugged.

"Sorry, never really thought about it." Keitaro chuckled slightly.

"Well, it used to be that I'd have healed up within minutes, easily before I managed to walk back. But things changed." The silver-eyed girl gazed at her Kanrinin with a puzzled expression.

"Was it back in September? Before Motoko went off on vacation? Ya went missing for a couple of days, sayin' ya were helping Seta with a project." Keitaro nodded slowly.

"Yeah. I was actually having my jaw wired." Ignoring a startled gasp from the woman opposite, he tapped the clean scar on the left side of his face. "It looked like my natural abilities needed help. So, I took out some health policies to cover the medical costs. But the visible evidence was more difficult to deal with, and you can guess how amateur my own efforts looked. So, I contacted someone for advice."

"Motoko?" Mitsune shook her head at the look Keitaro gave her. "Sorry, stupid idea."

"At the time she would have said 'just desserts'. No, I contacted someone else. Motoko once mentioned that the Shinmei-ryu insisted on a flawless public appearance, and had developed techniques of injury concealment to always appear pristine. But Motoko would never have given them to me, so I went for my only other option." The young lady puzzled through the story, and came to a conclusion.

For the millionth time in a few minutes, her jaw dropped.

"Not Tsuruko?!" Keitaro slowly nodded.

"Yes. I sent her a letter stating my predicament asking for advice. Her reply was informative and, shall we say, angry at the actions of her little sister." The Kanrinin shrugged gently, looking suddenly awkward. "This was only days before Motoko went home. I have no idea what happened whilst she was there, but she came back a completely different person and has been helping me ever since."

"……." Unusually for her, Mitsune had absolutely nothing to say. To think of it, she used to set up the man opposite at least once a week for her own amusement. To receive such injuries, and then go on as if nothing was ever the matter……

"Hang on Kei-kun, why the hell didn't ya just leave it all on show? I reckon knowin' what they were actually doin' to you would have stopped 'em in their tracks." Keitaro went back to studying the table, his hand reaching up to take off his glasses.

"Well, Motoko wouldn't have cared, doubt it would have mattered much to you either. But Su and Shinobu would be really upset; I think that Mutsumi would be too. And Haruka, I reckon she would have physically thrown Naru and Motoko down the stairs and chucked their bags after them. As for Naru….."

Despite the ache from Keitaro's blunt assessment of her behaviour towards him, Mitsune still had the awareness to reach out a gentle hand as the man broke off, suddenly finding the ceiling an object of intense interest. The pain in the fox's chest throbbed as the brown-haired Kanrinin jumped as her palm made contact, before giving it a squeeze in thanks.

"…..Naru wouldn't be able to forgive herself. I hoped that if I just kept coming back, one day she would stop lashing out, and everything would be fine….." Keitaro's head dipped, straggly brown fringe concealing his face, but Mitsune knew perfectly well what she couldn't see. Feeling utterly hopeless, the silver-haired girl meekly patted the hand she still held.

_Oh Naru, you fool! I warned you, but you've gone and let the best thing that could ever happen to you go….._

"Kei-kun, I'm sorry. I've always been a heartless bitch to ya. Ya deserve better than any of us." Mitsune slowly stood and slunk around the table, before gently glomping the man around the shoulders. "But since we're all ya got, we're at yer service. Any time, sugar." The response was a sniff and a brief squeeze of the enveloping arms.

"Thanks, Kitsune-chan." Sensing the Kanrinin wanted some privacy; Mitsune slowly released her grip and got up again.

"I'll leave ya be for now, Kei-kun. Come an' see me when ya want a chat." Receiving a gentle nod, the girl drifted to the doorway, and after casting one quick look back, left the room.

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Ten seconds later, the fox was stumbling back in her own bedroom, feeling more perplexed than ever before.

"Damn, wish I'd never found out." The girl muttered, draining the rest of her sake bottle and reaching for her fourth of the day. "Curiosity killed the fox an' all." The top was screwed off and Mitsune took a long swig, enjoying the distraction the burn gave her.

The girl didn't know what was disturbing her most – the knowledge of what her actions had done to the Kanrinin, or the view of her that the actions had created.

_Well Motoko wouldn't have cared, doubt it would have mattered much to you either….._

Mitsune couldn't hold back a grimace. Yes she used to play him, often for only a few yen, but was she really so heartless?

A hundred images of a certain individual stepping into occupied springs or interrupting dressing residents flashed before her eyes, and the fox took another mouthful of alcohol with a shudder.

Heartless didn't quite sum it up really. The real question was when did it start to matter?

……Maybe it was when she realised that Keitaro was more like her than either of them would like to admit.

Both surrounded by loved ones, yet both somehow alone. Something that made her heart go out to him, that let her love for him grow.

Hang on a minute, _love for him?!_

"Ohhhhhh, bugger." The fox began drunkenly banging her head against the wall she'd slumped against, punctuating each thump with an expletive.

She was falling for the boyfriend, or should it be ex, of her best friend.

The one situation she had wanted to avoid at all costs. Did it count as a betrayal to love a single man, albeit only recently single? Mitsune suspected Naru would see it as such, and she couldn't really blame her.

But she had warned her friend.

Warned her she was making an awful mistake, a warning that was either forgotten or ignored. And now it was too late.

Leaving the fox stuck between the two.

Feeling something lodged between her breasts, Mitsune reached down her shirt and withdrew a rolled-up bundle of banknotes. The fox stared at them blurrily, unfolding them to take a better look. When the value of the notes was revealed, her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hair.

The Kanrinin was sure as hell not saving up for a Chinese take-away.

Mitsune snorted with disgust, both at the fact that she had taken the money and that she couldn't bring herself to give it back. Feeling misery welling up she tipped her head back and drained the rest of the bottle, before letting it clatter to the floor. It wouldn't matter what she felt for Keitaro anyway, it was quite clear what he thought of her.

And, in all alcohol-drenched honesty, Mitsune couldn't blame him.

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The next few days passed quietly, the residents all occupying themselves with their own business. Naru and Keitaro both studiously avoided one another, with the honey-eyed girl preferring to spend all her time in her room 'studying'.

Shinobu's exuberance had eased after a quiet word from Haruka, and the girl divided her time between housework and spending quiet time with her beloved. Since the hole in the ceiling had been closed, she had few reservations joining Keitaro in his room. After Haruka's cautions, the young housekeeper had been content to enjoy the company until the weather cleared enough or her school to re-open. Mutsumi regularly joined them, keen as the younger girl to help Keitaro through the tough time.

Motoko had become distant, stating that she wished to focus on solo-studies being so close to the centre exams. However, much of her time was spent in endless katas, seeking mental balance through her martial arts. Whilst Su would normally have joined her, the worried princess busied herself by tweaking her outlandish creations.

The one who seemed to have gone off the rails was the fox. Having procured a large supply of good quality liquor from funds apparently unknown, Mitsune's main focus in life now seemed to be demolishing it. Fortunately for the silver-haired girl, Haruka seemed quite oblivious.

After several days the snow cleared enough for normal activities to begin, and all of those with an excuse gladly took the opportunity to vacate the Hinata-sou. This included Haruka, who was keen to finally catch up with the man in her own life over a cigarette or ten. The result was the raven-haired ronin and the curious fox together in the empty house.

In one of her rare alcohol-free moments, Mitsune couldn't help but give in to temptation.

Knocking on Motoko's room was not something she would do without good reason, but she counted her discovery a pretty good reason.

"Yes?" A calm voice called out.

"It's Kitsune." For a moment there was no reply, and the fox wondered if she was being ignored. The sudden opening of the door quelled the notion. Motoko stood occupying in the entrance dressed in a long black kimono, clearly suggesting she wasn't going to invite the other girl in.

"Yes, Konno-san? I am most busy, so I trust you do not intend to waste my time." Mitsune got the message – messing around was not an option.

"I know about you and Keitaro." Sensing the inevitable denial, the fox shook her head. "The concealment techniques. I know about them." Piercing emerald eyes narrowed, and Mitsune swallowed cautiously, concerned she may have over-stepped the line. However, after a few moments, the swordswoman seemed to relax.

"I imagined it was only a matter of time." Leaning lazily against the door frame but keeping one hand on her katana, Motoko gave Mitsune a measured look. "So, why do you choose to confront me with this fact? I have no doubt you already made Keitaro aware of your knowledge."

"Well, I guess I kinda wanted to know somethin'. Why? What do you get outta all this?" The fox shrugged gently. "I kinda get why Kei was keen to keep it quiet, he don't want to upset no-one. But you……I know ya promised an' all, but all the same it's a heck of a secret to keep."

"I have told you before, my word is my honour."

"Yeah, yeah. But how'd he get ya to swear on that? It's not somethin' you give away easily." Motoko sighed, an unusual action for the girl to make.

"I will not tell you of the reasons at present. Suffice to say that, after receiving education of my actions and their consequences, I felt it was correct to swear on my honour to protect and serve Keitaro. Until my debt has been paid, or I am released from servitude, I will continue." The kendoist sighed again, scuffing at the floor with a stocking-clad foot. "It is a shock when you learn that actions have repercussions, no? I felt it was my responsibility, both as a master of an art and a person, to make up for my errors. I am fortunate the man I owe debt to is both kind and charitable. Another may have taken advantage of the position in ways I dare not contemplate, and bound by my oath I would have been compelled to comply."

"Ya mean….." Mitsune's silver eyes widened at the tiny nod.

"Yes. Should he have demanded my body, by the code of my clan it would be his right after the abuse that has befallen his own." The swordswoman gave a throaty chuckle, olive eyes misting. "He is a kind man, Konno-san. One I will never be worthy of. I would be content to be in his debt from now to eternity if it will allow me to be close to him, even in the presence of another."

"…….." The fox digested the fact slowly as Motoko momentarily drifted into some other reality. Motoko _wanted_ to be in debt?

"Ah, pardon me, I was somewhere else for a second." Reality slipped back into the scene, and the kendoist suddenly realised what she had told one of her housemates.

The redness of her face was only accentuated by her normal pale countenance.

"Don't worry, Motoko-san." Mitsune waved the spluttering girl into silence. "I can keep a secret, y'know." The fox leaned in closely, mouth to inches from the other girl's ear. "'sides, I can't think of a single resident 'round here who wouldn't jump at the chance to spend all 'o time with the guy. Me included for sure. Mebbie for different reasons, but we all love the guy to bits. No shame in that." Leaning back, silver eyes met green, and understanding passed between them.

"You speak the truth. For once." The two women shared a tiny smile, before Motoko stepped back into her room. "I'm afraid I must take my leave. Feel free to call by for some tea later, should you desire."

"We'll see, Motoko-san." With a wave the fox-girl strolled off down the corridor, deciding that the horses demanded her attention now the snow had finally cleared.

Motoko meanwhile sat back at her table, wondering why on earth she'd admitted what she had.

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Naru held her hand lazily above her head, staring at the white plaster encasing it. A constant reminder of her mistakes, and a painful one. Without it, she would be back at Tokyo University right now, using work to get her mind off things.

No point going to tutorials where you can't make notes.

After a couple of days her tutor had advised her favourite student that such dedication was admirable, but that recuperation at home would be a much better idea. She hadn't had the desire to inform the woman why this might not be the case. Hence a further period of enforced exile at the Hinata-sou.

Although her tutor had furnished her with topics and upcoming discussion points, there was only so much studying that could be done without a deadline to focus the mind. So the girl lay lazily on her back, killing the evening by trying to find interest in a bland piece of plaster.

It was better to do something dull and banal when the alternative was stew on the state of her love life. It had been several days now since everything had come to a horrific, devastating end. The main constant in her life had gone, and even Mitsune seemed a little distant. Normally by now she'd be expecting the girl to burst through the door with a bottle of sake in one hand and drag her out to a bar, but it seemed that the fox was laying low as well.

The other residents seemed content to leave her in peace. Whilst that was all well and good to begin with, it was quickly becoming tiring. Naru couldn't help but feel slightly stung by the apparent lack of interest. Sure, it may have been her fault, but she'd been expecting at least a couple of residents offering her a shoulder to cry on. But nope, her solitude had been very…..solitary, to the point where her only companion was her own thoughts echoing around her head. Without a person to say them to.

She didn't want to be left with her thoughts any more, she wanted to hear other people speak, hear another voice outside her own. She wanted to hear Keitaro's voice……

She wanted to hear Keitaro once again proclaim his love for her. Wanted to hear why Keitaro decided at that moment their time was over, what she could do to stop it being over.

Wanted to hear his forgiveness, hear him take her back.

She almost rolled over to reach for the floorboard, but stopped mid-way with a silent curse. Right. No hole any more.

So she had to do it the old fashioned way.

Hauling herself up onto her feet, the girl quickly scanned her figure in the lamplight. She looked a mess, despite a few nocturnal visits to the hot springs in successful attempts to avoid any company. Suddenly, an idea slipped unbidden into her mind.

Keitaro was a man. And being a man, he wouldn't be able to resist good old fashioned womanly charm. A large part of her quailed at the idea, but she set her jaw in a firm line with a nod. If physical temptation was the only way to rescue the relationship, then so be it.

Brushing a few honey-brown strands out of her face, the girl plucked her glasses off and set them to one side. This was followed by a thorough ruffling of her long hair, deciding the just-out-of-bed appearance was the way to go. The next action saw the gorgeous young woman undoing the top button of her pink pyjama top, allowing more cleavage than normal to peek from beneath it. The bottom button followed, to display just a hint of stomach. Naru peered again into the mirror, and shook her head. Not quite right. Something else needed to be changed.

Oh, maybe…..

The honey-eyed girl nearly lost her will at that very moment, but somehow forced herself to shed her top and reach a shaking hand up behind her back. A click, some reluctant disrobing and when she put it back on her shirt was resting flush on skin alone. Once again the young lady appraised herself, feeling oddly pleased with the result. Yes, she wasn't the Okinawan or the fox, but she was happy she could hold her own.

Anything else?

Reaching to her dresser, trembling fingers grasped a bottle of perfume. Two quick sprays and a sneeze later, the girl gave herself one last once-over.

Good as it was going to get.

Hurrying before her nerve failed, the honey haired girl propelled herself from her room, along the passageway and down a flight of stairs. Passing Mitsune's room she paused, only to hear very loud snoring, the kind that can only be achieved by the truly unconscious. Nodding in satisfaction, she paced to the next door along, and reached up her plastered limb.

The arm hovered inches from the door for at least a minute, as the girl fought a pitched battle with herself. Half of her screamed to turn and run like hell, whilst the other half reminded her that running would only put her back where she began.

Eventually, bravery won.

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Keitaro's head lifted at the hesitant rapping on his door. Who could be coming at this hour? Shinobu had gone to bed an hour ago, Mutsumi half an hour before that. Whilst he appreciated the supportive company, he doubted it would be likely at this hour.

Well, no point in wondering…..

"It's open." For a few seconds there was no movement, and Keitaro began to wonder if it was merely his imagination.

The door slid to one side, and the man dropped his book with a clatter.

Naru looked _gorgeous_. Framed in the glowing light from the hallway, angelic would be just as good a description. The Kanrinin felt his heart skip a beat, utterly overwhelmed by conflicting emotions.

"Can I come in, Kei-kun?" Pulling himself half-out of his futon, and very aware of his lack of clothing, the man replied with a stutter.

"W-well, I'm not exactly dressed for visitors……"

"Don't worry about it, Kei-kun." The girl slipped into the room, nudging the door behind her shut. With that, she seemed to square her shoulders, and advanced with purpose on the Kanrinin.

"Naru-san, wha?" Words were caught in Keitaro's throat as the honey-eyed girl carefully set herself down in front of him, and leaned forward to look him in the eye.

"No need to get up." Naru murmured, hoping that all those times she'd heard Mitsune theorising on how to seduce a man weren't just hot air. "I can come down there easily enough." Quailing internally, the young lady laid her unclad hand on Keitaro's bare chest and pushed him gently onto his back.

"Uhm, what are you doing?" Keitaro mumbled, feeling his body react despite himself.

"What I should have done a long time ago." With that the pyjama'd girl swung one leg across the prone below her and straddled the man, trying to ignore the fact their bodies were merely separated by a thick blanket. "It's only natural, after all."

"Please, Naru-"

"Shhhhhh." The girl placed a gentle finger over her ex-boyfriend's mouth, steeling herself for what she was about to do. "Just let me do the work from here. It's what you want, right?" With that the girl pursed her lips and brought her face down, closing her eyes in the hope of ignoring what she was about to do.

She was surprised when her kiss met only air.

Opening her eyes again she saw Keitaro craning his head out of the way, looking at her with something akin to sadness.

"No, Naru-san." The young lady frowned slightly at the apparent rejection.

"What are you on about, Kei-kun?" Craning down to try again, the attempt only met a firm hand.

"I said No, Naru-san." Equal parts relieved and angry, Naru stared eye-to-eye with the man beneath her.

"Please Kei-kun, don't make this harder for me than it already is." A moment of silence, loud as rumbling thunder.

It then hit Naru exactly what she had said.

"Oh god, I didn't mean that, I didn't….."

"Get off me please, Naru-san." Keitaro replied gruffly, trying to get up.

"I didn't, I didn't mean it, please, I didn't." Naru sobbed gently, gripping onto the bedclothes below her in desperation. "Please, Kei-kun, let me show you I didn't-"

"Naru." The Kanrinin laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, voice soft. "Come on, stop this. Let me get up." Still weeping, the girl slowly rolled off to the side and sat against the wall as Keitaro rolled over to face her. For a moment the two regarded each other, both seeking to contain their tears. Eventually, Naru spoke first.

"I'm sorry Kei-kun. I tried, I thought if I showed I was willing to, you know….." The brown-haired man sighed quietly, propping himself up on one elbow.

"You weren't willing. I could see it in every movement you made, every time you paused before making a movement. It's meant to be natural, but you were forcing yourself." Keitaro closed his eyes, dipping his head. "You were shaking like a leaf, and not with expectation. All there was was fear. I could see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice, feel it in your body."

"But it's what you wanted isn't it? My body?" Naru answered, curled up against the wall.

"I can't deny it." Seeing the girl beginning to reply, the man held up a hand. "But Naru-san, it's not just about that. You don't trust me, and I can't face living my life with someone who can't trust me."

"……." Any reply died unsaid on Naru's lips. He was right.

"I never knew why you always assume the worst." Keitaro continued with a hollow smile, one that didn't even reach his upper lip, let alone his eyes. "But you do. You didn't come down here to make love; you came because you thought I needed sex to be satisfied. Why? Why do you think it's all I want?"

"I'm sorry." Naru whispered, for the first time feeling truly so. "It's just…..that's all anyone seemed to be after. What else would a man want from me?" The girl made a throaty noise that might have been called a laugh, if it weren't so humourless.

"What happened, Naru-san?" Honey eyes met brown, and Naru only sensed honest curiosity.

"Well, my cousin for one. He was older than me, and always used to 'accidentally' come into my room when I was undressed, or touch me somewhere personal and call it 'playing'." Naru shook her head, feeling the ghosts of nightmares past escaping their shackles. "Then a couple of tutors I had at school started doing the same. They would always tell me I was their star pupil, and invite me for study sessions just to try and look up my skirt or down my blouse." The girl sniffed quietly, dabbing at her eyes. "I think it was when my uncle started trying to grope that I gave up on men. Everywhere I look, they seemed to be undressing me with their eyes, lust so obvious that they may as well be drooling."

"Not everyone is like that, Naru-san." The girl looked up, surprised to find she still had tears to shed about something she thought long-buried.

"I know. But every time a man tries to touch me, I forget….." Keitaro laid a tender hand upon hers, one she took in her own and squeezed. "I want to trust you Kei-kun, I really do. I've tried, but I just can't."

"Which is why this is for the best." The man slowly withdrew his hand, and the two pairs of eyes locked on one another once more. "Someday you'll be ready, and find someone to spend your life with."

"But not you." Naru finished, feeling agony blossoming once again in her chest.

"Probably not." Agreed Keitaro.

For what seemed like an eternity the two stared at each other, both aware that this was the last time. Slowly, two faces leant towards each other, and lips met gently in a farewell kiss.

"I've got to go and sort things out." Naru stated, gingerly getting up and brushing the few remaining flecks of water from her face. "There are a few people who need to have their ideas, or maybe their faces, re-arranged." The young lady gave Keitaro a bittersweet smile. "Maybe once I sort them out, I'll be ready to try again."

"Naru-chan….." The honey-haired girl paused at the doorway, and turned to see her ex-boyfriend looking up at her. "Take care, okay?"

"Okay." Naru whispered, and then was gone.

Keitaro stared at the closed door, feeling oddly ambivalent. It was painful to see her go, but at the same time it set him free. Free to choose his own life, not the one a promise chose for him.

All the same, he was going to allow himself one last night of reminiscence before the dawning of the new day.

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Well, chapter 7 wrapped up.

Next chapter should complete Motoko's story, and a couple of...interesting developments.

However, that's only the plan, I'll try my best to deliver!

'Til next time.

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	8. Chapter 8

Well, it's been a little longer than usual, but that's the life of someone who works odd hours!

Time for chapter 8.

Once again, big thanks to all those who left reviews, they're all appreciated.

No point in ranting on any further

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Repercussions – Chapter 8

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Shinobu hummed happily to herself, tugging her red gown more tightly about herself to stave off the January morning chill as she made her way to start breakfast. The girl had always been a morning person, and she loved walking through the Hinata-sou whilst all was silent – she could almost believe the house itself was asleep. The old building seemed to have a life of its own, and the youngest resident often found herself tiptoeing through its vacant hallways so not to disturb its slumber. Soon enough the house would awaken along with its residents, but this time was hers alone. Exactly how she liked it.

Hence, the girl had never found getting up early to make breakfast a chore. Turning the lights on in her kitchen she took a moment to enjoy the silence, letting her eyes roam around the room she had claimed as her own, enjoying the sight of everything in its place. Ready and waiting to obey her every command.

No, cooking could never be a chore to Shinobu. Especially when she had someone special to cook for.

Sem- No, Keitaro. He was still technically her sempai, but he was even more her Keitaro.

Despite the fact she knew it was wrong of her, the violet-haired girl couldn't help but take some small delight from the disastrous happenings of the previous few days. Deep down, despite her respect and sisterly affection, she felt keen resentment for Keitaro's now ex-girlfriend. She'd seen enough violence in her life, and had run to the Hinata-sou to escape it all. To have the same story acted out before her very eyes, to see the ones she loved knowingly hurt one another……

The worst moment in Shinobu's young life was the first time she saw her father hit her mother. The shock, the stomach-wrenching sound of fist meeting flesh, the icily chilling echo which rung like the tolling of a bell. It was the point of no return for both her and her parents. The next day, when her eyes were met with bruises violet as her own hair, Shinobu realised that things were never going to be right again. The sight of two people she loved doing such things shook the girl from head to toe, and the fact it took place night after night thereafter was just too much for her to take.

But the Hinata-sou proved to be no escape.

At first, the girl had been able to view the repeated random violence between Naru and Keitaro with a cautious detachment. But as time passed, and she grew increasingly fond of the ill-fated pair, it became harder and harder to stomach. However, unlike her parents, it seemed that the aggression was entirely one-sided. Whilst her parents would go toe-to-toe and trade both blows and insults, Shinobu saw none of the same from her new Kanrinin. It was always the honey-haired girl, or sometimes the olive-eyed swordswoman, who attempted to cause physical harm.

Yes, sometimes Keitaro deserved punishment. Everyone makes mistakes, correct? Even Shinobu suspected that not every single 'perversion' that took place was a total accident.

But why did the punishment have to be so severe, and so quickly meted out?

Shinobu knew very well what could happen if you hit someone hard enough. After a particularly violent fight her mother had needed surgery to fix a shattered cheekbone and lost most of her sight in one eye, not to mention several teeth. It had only taken two or three blows, but it had been enough. Divorce was already in progress; imprisonment rapidly followed, by which point the girl had taken residence at the Hinata-sou.

The girl was always shaken by the sight of violence. But it was the outcome of violence that made her truly sick.

At times, only Keitaro's invulnerability and cheerful acceptance of the violence allowed her to keep her furious grief locked away. She was always very quick to forgive, but after seeing the outcomes first-hand, causing harm was one thing she could not let slide easily.

The kettle whistling awoke the violet-eyed chef from her daydream, and she set it to one side. Idly deciding to use some of her special tea for a change, Shinobu pondered over what to make for breakfast. Something simple perhaps, she did have school today after all; much as she loved cooking there was no point exhausting the entire time beforehand in the kitchen. Mentally deciding on a recipe the young lady poured herself a cup of tea and sipped it, enjoying the taste.

And paused as a very un-Shinobu memory slipped into her head.

The last time she'd used the tea was for a particular occasion, around a week ago. She had prepared it for a birthday breakfast. One that had resulted in a very…..unexpected but by no means unpleasant experience. The girl's cheeks coloured further, and she stared at her rosy reflection in her teacup whilst blood once again began to flow in unusual directions. She even began to feel her nose prickling, and hurriedly clamped some kitchen roll over her nostrils in time to catch a tiny trickle of blood.

Shinobu blink-blinked as the reason for Keitaro's repeated nasal haemorrhaging suddenly became clear to her. She couldn't help but chuckle as she dabbed gingerly at her nose.

_I guess that officially makes me a 'pervert' too, then._

Placing the tissue to one side in case of further bleeding, Shinobu sipped once again at her hot drink before an even more un-Shinobu idea sprang to mind. One that nearly led to her dropping the cup. The young lady blushed yet more deeply, but allowed herself to actually consider it.

The more she considered it, the bigger and more Kitsune-ish the grin on her face became.

Hurriedly, Shinobu refilled her cup and scurried from the kitchen with it, hoping to complete her mission before the real Shinobu woke up and asked her what the hell she was doing.

Truth be told, something more than courage had awoken in the purple-haired girl the day she'd taken Keitaro his breakfast. Suddenly, she was aware of something she hadn't really been before. That she was a woman. As in a fully-grown, fully-fledged member of the female sex.

Well, not quite fully-grown. She hoped.

And Keitaro was a man.

Suddenly, the dreams were of slightly more than holding hands and shy kisses on the cheek. Quite a bit more in fact. The prologue of childhood had ended; the curtain of innocence had gone up, welcome to the main act. Now, the imaginary romance also had a physical aspect.

It was the physical aspect that Shinobu was in search of as she scampered up to her Kanrinin's room. The teenager knew it was perverted and immoral, but she wanted another look. _Needed_, damn it. Blame hormones, blame curiosity, blame whatever you like. All of a sudden something she'd been almost unaware of had come into full-focus, and she was eager to know more.

So caught up in her thoughts was the girl that she almost charged past the intended doorway, screeching to a halt just in time whilst somehow managing to keep the tea in the cup. Taking a few deep breaths Shinobu steadied herself so she didn't look like she'd run at a full-sprint up a flight of stairs. Another moment of composure, then a soft knock-knock-knock.

"Uhhhh, hello?" Came a drowsy voice from within, and the girl smiled. Still in bed, good.

"It's Shinobu, Kei. Breakfast will be ready soon." A pause, and then a slightly more awake reply.

"Okay, I'll be down soon." Shinobu answered in acknowledgement, and then made an issue of stomping off towards Mitsune's room.

Only to sidle back along the corridor seconds later, quiet as a mouse. The girl almost broke off into hysterical giggles at what she was doing. It was so out-of-character for her, but she just couldn't help it.

The plan was; wake Keitaro up, hide and wait for the sound of (un)dressing, and then burst in with typical cheeriness to give him a surprise cup of tea. Hopefully, she could add another mental photo to her meagre collection. So far, so good. Holding her breath and the cup steady, the girl picked up the sounds of movement from within the room, followed by drawers opening and shutting. Three, two, one…..

"Kei, I made you some tea-" Shinobu called as she strode through the now open door before stopping dead in mid-sentence. Moments later the sound of china shattering echoed through the Hinata-sou as the cup hit the floor, forgotten by now trembling hands. Those hands slowly made their way up to their owner's face as the violet-haired girl's mind seemed to shut down.

There in front of her stood Keitaro, wearing only boxer shorts and a shocked expression, with a towel in one hand and a bottle in another.

And all over his face a sight too familiar. Far too familiar.

A tremulous hand craned out, and would have brushed one of the numerous yellowing blemishes had the man not instinctively leaned out of reach.

For several seconds two pairs of eyes stared at one another, both owners unable to make a sound.

As understanding began to set in, something incredibly unfamiliar began to build inside the violet-haired head of the young home-maker. It flared like a star, and began to burn every coherent thought she had to ashes, feasting on itself until it swelled into a flaming mass too hot and corrosive for her to contain.

Rage.

"Hey, whass the-" Mitsune lost the remainder of her question as the normally placid younger girl shoulder-barged her out of the doorway and onto her backside before setting off at a dead run. Seeing Keitaro skid out of his room wearing little more than nothing and set off after her, the fox decided to trail along as whatever was going on was certainly interesting.

Keitaro meanwhile was hot on the tail of his emotional youngest resident, expecting her to head down the stairs and out towards the steps. To his surprise Shinobu took a right, and headed upstairs. For a moment the Kanrinin wondered if she was heading to her own room, but then clarity suddenly took hold. No, Shinobu wasn't going for _her_ room, she was going for……

"Naru!!" The petit girl screamed, charging along to room 304. "Naru, get out here now!" Arriving at the doorway Shinobu tugged at it, and it slid open with barely a sound. Surprised, but not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, she dived through it.

And stopped dead.

"Shinobu!" Keitaro skidded into the room behind her, and put a hand on her shoulder as the girl stared blankly around her in dumbfounded shock.

It was empty.

"Hey kids, what's all the noise about?" Mitsune slurred, before taking in the room herself. "The hell? Naru's gone?"

"Just in time too." Shinobu ground out. "If she was here, I'd, I'd……" The purple-haired girl broke off as she slumped to her knees, eyes filling with tears. Keitaro sank down slowly beside her, drawing the distraught girl into a hug. Mitsune watched open-mouthed as Shinobu began sobbing into the offered embrace, crying with anguish the fox didn't know the girl was capable of.

"It's okay, Shinobu." Keitaro murmured, rocking slowly.

"Kei-kun, care to enlighten….." Mitsune caught the 'not right now' look her Kanrinin sent her, and proceeded to shut up. For several seconds the only sound was that of Shinobu's distress, until a fourth voice drifted into the room.

"May I ask, Urashima-san, what on earth is going on?" Before Keitaro could react Shinobu had wrenched herself from his grip, and launched herself across towards the figure that had just entered.

Motoko's face was wrenched sideways as a resounding slap echoed through the deserted room.

"You bitch!" The right hand was cocked back for another strike before Keitaro managed to grab it. "You-you vicious, evil….." Shinobu dashed tears from her face with her unbound arm, struggling for words to express her fury whilst Motoko stood motionless, head still turned from the younger girl's attack.

"Shinobu, what is – oh my." Mutsumi appeared behind the paralysed swordswoman, hand reaching for her mouth as she took in the furiously tearful face of her youngest friend and the scarred visage of the man holding her in place.

"…….." Shinobu couldn't reply, instead turning back towards her beloved and burying her face into his chest again.

"Well, I suppose the cat is well and truly out of the bag." The Kanrinin said gently, seeing Su's confused face appear from behind Mutsumi. Within a second the little princess was patting Shinobu on the back whilst she peered at Keitaro with puzzled eyes. "It's time to come clean."

"Yes, Kei-kun. I would like to know what's been going on." Mutsumi replied quietly. The brown-haired man nodded to her in agreement.

"You will." He fixed his gaze on the bedraggled fox beside him, and favoured her with a small smile. "Kitsune-san, go and put the kettle on. I think we're going to need some tea for this..."

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The group around the table listened intently as Keitaro, whilst sipping at a steaming mug, went through the same story he had told Mitsune only a day earlier. Shinobu sat possessively close, left hand grasping Keitaro's right, whilst frowning with red eyes at the collection sat around the table. Particularly at Motoko, who remained impassive throughout. As the tale wound to a close, she set her cup down on the table with a resounding 'clunk'.

"Okay. I want to know who knew about this." The girl said firmly, casting a glare at the assembled company. "Right, hands up. Now." One hand was raised instantly, whilst another one crept into the air more hesitantly.

"Yeah, I kinda knew." Mitsune muttered at Shinobu as the attention centred on her.

"So, why didn't you tell us?" The younger girl asked with annoyance.

"'Cause I only found out yesterday." Replied the fox simply. "He also kinda made me promise not ta tell."

"I have known for many months." Motoko broke in, much to Mitsune's relief. "However, I made a pledge to Keitaro-san that I would do as he instructed. He instructed me that I was forbidden to tell, unless it was in order to save someone from harm or after he granted me his permission." By the way Shinobu's hand was crushing Keitaro's below the table it was apparent the young lady was still not completely happy with the Kendoist.

"Save someone from harm?" Shinobu gestured at the man sat next to her. "Why not save him from harm? You can't pretend you didn't know, you were teaching him to hide the results!"

"I know." Motoko answered quietly, looking pained. "I often asked him, begged him, to allow me to share with the world the truth of the situation. But he would not allow me to do so. It would have given me such gratification to open the eyes of those who still had them firmly closed."

"Then why not do it? Why hide behind an 'oath'?" The kimono-clad woman winced, but said nothing.

"Shinobu, do not blame Motoko-san for her silence." Shinobu blinked in surprise, turning her attention to the man she was leaning into.

"But if she'd opened her mouth……"

"If I'd opened my mouth, I could have stopped it." Keitaro cut her off gently, adjusting his blue dressing gown so that it didn't show quite so much chest. "If Motoko broke her promise, she would lose her honour. And to a martial artist, honour is everything."

"He speaks the truth, Shinobu-chan." Motoko put in, laying the Hina blade on the table. "I would have had to admit my misdemeanour to my clan head, and face being stripped of my title and possibly my family name."

"The thing I want to know is how the hell he got you to swear an oath in the first place." Mitsune said, nursing a growing hangover whilst sipping gingerly at her own drink.

"If there's a good reason for it, maybe I'll be able to understand." The purple-eyed girl added, pouring herself and the man beside her a fresh cup of tea.

"Very well, I suppose I do owe you an honest explanation." The swordswoman sighed, setting her mug to one side. "But please do not interrupt, I'm sure any questions can wait until the end……"

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It had been several weeks of repeated humiliation before Motoko felt driven to confront her sister. After what must have been the tenth unscheduled interruption of someone of the opposite sex in what she believed to be an empty bath, the swordswoman snapped. Quietly fuming, she had strutted along the hallway fully intent on confronting her sister.

The doorway to the room Tsuruko shared with her husband was ajar, and as Motoko peered inside she saw the dark-haired man reclining easily in a cushioned armchair, reading a book. As she snorted an annoyance and turned to leave, a masculine voice spoke behind her.

"She is in the sacred garden, if you wish to see her." Motoko only paused to nod minutely before hurrying off, mind awhirl.

The sacred garden. The place where the past members of the house of Aoyama rested. For eternity.

Motoko had visited it numerous times to pay respects to her grandparents on the anniversary of their deaths. But as far as Motoko was aware, no-one that she knew of had passed on to the next life on this particular date. So why on earth would her older sister be there?

Soon, the kendoist's swift feet had carried her to the entrance of the sacred garden. The flawless ebony headstones ranked in perfect order, from generations many centuries past. Before each one a flower, each one different, dependant on the identity of the departed. Weaving their way between the stones white gravel pathways, not a single weed or patch of moss spoiling the pearly shade. Beneath the twilight autumn sky, the garden had a hauntingly ethereal quality.

"Imoutochan. I wondered if you would come." Tsuruko's calm voice echoed through the still air, from where she stood apparently studying one of the headstones. Motoko made her way over to her cautiously; hand on the hilt of her katana in preparation.

"Oneesan, I wish to have a word with you." Her older sister turned to her, and her eyes instantly narrowed.

"Imoutochan, take your hand from your sword. You cannot think that I would dare to initiate violence in such a sacred place." Motoko's hand faltered for a second before the keen gaze of her sister forced her to accede.

"I merely wished….."

"It seems violence is always the method of choice for you, imoutochan." Tsuruko drew her hands away from her sides, showing two empty palms. "If you were to truly consider the situation, you would notice that I am utterly unarmed. My blade is in the care of my husband, for it would not do to bear arms in the presence of those who may have died by them." Motoko felt her face colouring in shame, and she turned her attention to her white-stockinged feet.

"I apologise, oneesan. I meant no disrespect to yourself or my forbearers." Crossing her fingers in front of her, the young woman took a deep breath. "But I still wish to discuss something with you."

"I sensed you would. It is of great irony that you have chosen this day to do so." Tsuruko took a step towards her sister, bending slightly to look the younger woman in the eye. "I know you have realised that the events of the previous few weeks have been orchestrated by yours truly. Correct?"

"Yes, oneesan. But there's one thing I do not understand. Why?" Motoko's querying tone drew an expression of displeasure from her older sister.

"I had hoped that the lesson would be self-explanatory. You disappoint me, imoutochan." Tsuruko held up a palm to prevent the inevitable response. "If I were to tell you that I have received correspondence from one or more of your housemates, would the reasons become clear?" Motoko waved a hand in irritation.

"Yes yes, I know you are trying to put me in that perverted Keitaro's position. Well done, you succeeded. Would you care to tell me why?" At the flippancy, her sister's expression grew dark.

"You disappoint me, imoutochan. It seems that attempts at education have done you little good; perhaps you do not understand my great, no, extreme displeasure at your repeated actions. Not only has a Haruka Urashima contacted me in concern at your repeated abuse of power, but Keitaro himself has requested advice on how to conceal the injuries sustained in order to preserve, as he put it……the peace." From within her kimono, the svelte beauty withdrew a few pieces of paper and waved them in the still night air. "Do you not understand what this could entail, imoutochan?"

"……Not really, no." Motoko sighed, wishing her sister would get the damn charade over with. Tsuruko must have sensed it, as her gaze became steely and fierce.

"Over the last few weeks I have proven to you that the events for which you dealt out 'punishment' could, and in fact most likely were, innocent errors on his part, yes?"

"Well, not really proven, but-"

"Motoko-chan. You had no intention of committing any of the 'perversions' that have occurred since you arrived. Yet you have been seen as the guilty party on each occasion." Motoko bristled at the lecturing tone.

"Oneesan, these events were orchestrated by yourself. How can I take any truth from a charade?" Tsuruko smiled thinly in reply.

"I merely placed people in the appropriate place at the appropriate time, much as a certain Ms. Konno has been noted to do on a daily basis. They had no idea that they were part of, shall we say, a set-up. Additionally, on three occasions in the last three weeks, incidents have taken place in which I played no part." The younger woman's exasperation died unsaid on her lips as Tsuruko continued unabated. "For example, Tuesday is designated male-only bathing during the morning; it was your own oversight that led to that…..incident." Motoko's mind spun. Her view on the world was being systematically shot down, and she could see no way of defending it.

"So, you mean…..it wasn't all just an act? There were genuine co-incidences?" A slow nod was the reply. The girl stared into the middle distance, trying to somehow understand what was being said. She had been played, and made genuine mistakes, yet on each occasion received the blame.

"Imoutochan, you have now experienced the opposite side of the story. This is what happens according to both the man involved and an onlooker, both stating exactly the same facts independently. Indeed, so concerned was I that within the last two months I travelled, at the request of Haruka Urashima, to witness events first-hand. What I saw only proved to be confirmation." Tsuruko shook her head gently. "I detected no intent from your Kanrinin. Only aggression from those opposed to him."

"Oneesan……"

"So, in conclusion. For the last few years you have, in truth, been attacking an innocent, yes?"

"But he's a perv-"

"Stop!" Motoko felt her hand involuntarily curl around her blade as her older sister took two furious steps towards her. "Stop, and _listen_ to yourself! We've already ascertained that, on balance, there is no proof that the man you're condemning is anything but innocent. Do you know what that makes your attacks, in the eyes of the law? Assault, imoutochan. Grievous bodily harm." Tsuruko bent forwards at the waist, coming nose to nose with the trembling girl before her. "Attempted _murder_, Motoko-san." As the last words purred silkily from Tsuruko's mouth, Motoko felt her knees give way from beneath her.

"No. No……" The swordswoman buried her face in her hands, previous actions suddenly cast in a totally different light.

"You see it now, don't you imoutochan?" Tsuruko placed a hand on the shocked girl's shoulder, as she struggled to come to terms with the harsh truth.

"Y-yes." The older sister took a deep breath, considering the girl before her.

"Motoko-chan, I did not wish to impress this upon you so harshly. But I have good reason. I trust you have never been told of your aunt, Fuyuko?" Motoko looked up, confusion clear in her olive eyes.

"I have no aunt, oneesan. Mother was an only child." The confusion deepened further as her older sister slowly shook her head.

"I am not surprised. You learn a great deal when you become head of the school, imoutochan. Mother had a sister, one you are too young to remember." Motoko's confusion became surprise as the dark eyes of her older sister began to glisten in the moonlight. "She was a firebrand, had a deep temper like you, and because of the attention her beauty attracted she became deeply distrustful of men. When she was barely twenty-five, she took umbrage at what she perceived to be an attempt of perversion, accusing a man of groping her. Several others witnessed the entire event, and to a person stated that the man's suitcase alone made contact with Fuyuko, not any part of his body. They stated this to a court." Tsuruko's smile grew sad, her voice hollow. "She was convicted of murder and sentenced to life imprisonment. That was, if she hadn't had to face a family court before going to jail."

"What happened then oneesan?" Asked Motoko, unsettled by the depression filtering into her older sister's being.

"They gave her a choice. She could accept her sentence, be erased from the family register, become ronin and spend the rest of her life in prison. There was one other option, the option she chose." Tsuruko stretched a pale hand, shining ivory in the moonlight, and pointed to the gravestone she was knelt before. Motoko gasped gently as she read the silvery inscription upon it.

**Fuyuko Aoyama**

**Born April 25****th**** 1959**

**Died March 7****th**** 1984**

**Honour Reclaimed In Death**

"She chose seppuku. The only way for a warrior to repay the ultimate sin that is taking an innocent life." The younger woman peered down ashamedly as her older sister continued in a solemn tone. "Imoutochan, the techniques we use are designed to kill. Even the use of non-lethal weapons does not make them safe. You are extremely fortunate you chose both a forgiving and extremely durable target."

"I understand, oneechan. I honestly do." Motoko whispered, feeling herself beginning to fill with some unidentifiable emotion. Her trembling hands were clutched by those of another, and she looked up to see Tsuruko's eyes brimming with water as she held them close to her chest.

"I pray you do, Motoko-chan. You see, we had to grow up without ever knowing our aunt." With that her tears escaped, cascading in rivulets as Tsuruko guided the captured hands down to her abdomen before placing them upon it gently. "I pray you understand, as……I don't want my child to grow up never knowing her aunt……"

"Tsuruko……" Seeing only confirmation in her older sister's eyes, Motoko drew the mother-to-be into a loving hug.

"Please, Motoko. Please do not repeat the mistakes of days past. I want to have a sister until the end of my days; I want an aunt for my children. Please do not deny us that." The younger girl could only nod, allowing both joy and grief to flow from her eyes as the sisters embraced beneath the moonlight.

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Several seconds of uncomfortable silence followed the end of the tale, before Motoko spoke again.

"After learning of the truth, I discussed with my sister how best to repay the debt I already owed. In the end we came to the conclusion that I essentially owe Keitaro a life debt for repeated, potentially fatal assaults on his person." She said quietly, looking no-one in the eye. "Soon as I returned, I pledged my obedience to Keitaro-"

"Potentially _fatal_?" A high-pitched squeak drew attention to Shinobu, who was alabaster pale with eyes like saucers. "You mean you could have….." Motoko nodded mutely, to several gasps.

"Yes. I did not have full appreciation of the true power of the techniques my school uses. It was one of the deepest shocks I have ever felt to know another human may have died at my hand." The swordswoman looked over at the purple-haired girl who had latched onto the man beside her, seemingly afraid that her sempai would disappear if she were to let go. "I still have not reconciled this fact with myself, despite the stated forgiveness of the man I attacked. Hence my pledge still holds true – Keitaro could ask anything of me and I would willingly accede."

"Anything?" Mutsumi asked carefully.

"Yes. Anything." Several pairs of eyebrows began to rise at the bland statement.

"Not that I would." Keitaro broke in hurriedly, not liking the direction the conversation was taking. If Naru was present, conclusions would already have been jumped to, with the 'P' word well on its way.

"Ah c'mon Kei-kun. More chance of you becomin' a Tibetan monk than ya takin' advantage of Motoko-san here." Mitsune chuckled, pointing an amused finger. "Yer the most frigid bloke I've ever come across, an' yer scared shitless of our samurai sister as it is. Ya do anythin' like that, the moment you let her off the promise yer worse than dead." Several people coloured for different reasons – Shinobu at the thought of Keitaro 'taking advantage' of anyone, Keitaro at the 'frigid' jibe and Motoko at the thought of being 'taken advantage' of by the Kanrinin. Not that she would have protested, in all honesty, especially in the way described on page one-sixty-six of her book…..

"Motoko-san, are you all alright?" Asked Mutsumi, concerned that the raven-haired girl had sunk her head onto the table and was making odd high-pitched noises.

"I wouldn't say frigid, Kitsune-san, but you're right that I'd end up a eunuch if I'd tried anything with Motoko-san." Keitaro said, glad that the fox had lightened the tone. "I was surprised when she made the pledge, but after hearing this I knew it was the only way she could reclaim her honour. I was a bit confused what to do to begin with, but Motoko came up with the idea of assisting me with concealment techniques." The only man at the table shifted slightly so the girl leaning into his shoulder was more comfortable, before continuing. "I offered to tutor her in return. Initially she declined, but eventually accepted when we realised it could be used as cover."

"It looks like you put a lot of thought into this, Kei-kun." Mutsumi stated quietly, examining Keitaro with her usual mellow brown gaze. "But why all the deception? I must say I wonder why you've gone to such lengths to hide this from all of us."

"Ah, well….."

"It's 'cause you wanted us all to be happy. Isn't it, Keitaros?" Su broke in quietly, to the surprise of everyone around the table. "You knew Shinobu would be sad, that we all would be. An' you wanted everyone to be cheery like normal, so you pretended nothing was wrong….." The little princess stood up demurely and paced around the table, before cuddling into the Kanrinin's vacant side. "You're too nice, Keitaros. I'm glad you're my spare oniisan." Everyone watched Su kiss the man gently on the cheek before politely re-taking her seat. Even the normally oblivious girl noticed the stunned silence following her actions, and she gave the other occupants a slightly enigmatic smile before attacking her breakfast with her normal gusto.

Cue sweatdrops.

These were followed by a slightly embarrassed silence, in which Keitaro scratched nervously at the back of his head whilst he was scrutinised by four others around the table (Su now fully re-engaged in oblivious mode).

"Is this true?" Mutsumi asked quietly. The blue-robed man nodded in response.

"Yeah, kinda." No-one missed the glance he cast at the empty seat to Mitsune's right.

"Oh, you said that Naru has gone somewhere?" Prompted the fox.

"Yeah. She saw me last night, said she had to go and sort herself out….." Keitaro murmured, feeling the memories coming back in full force. Naru, dressed as he'd always dreamt she would, saying words that he'd always wanted to hear. Words that were undeniably fake, words that set the faint hopes he harboured adrift and sent them floating off into the night.

Maybe moving on wasn't as easy as the Kanrinin had hoped.

"Keitaro?" Shinobu worriedly watched as the man she was sat next to hurriedly excused himself and set off to his room, head down. For a second the young lady dithered over whether to follow him or not, before the new Shinobu told her to stop worrying and just do it.

"Shinobu-chan….." The girl halted half-out of her chair and glared at Motoko.

"If you're trying to stop me this time, don't even bother." The swordswoman looked away, voice low.

"I am not, Shinobu-chan. I merely wished to express my deepest and most sincere apologies. I did not know of the error of my ways, and rest assured that I feel the shame and horror with an intensity I cannot express." The purple-eyed glare softened slightly, and Shinobu sighed.

"Motoko-san, I'm really mad with you, and I'll be this way for ages." She slipped out from under the table, and pushed her chair in. "But I understand. I don't hate you, just…..don't expect a bento for lunch any time soon." With that Shinobu set off towards the stairs, clearly intent on following Keitaro.

"…..She's really grown up." Mutsumi commented as the purple-haired figure moved out of sight. "I wish I was brave enough to go after him."

"She's young enough to still be reckless." Mitsune replied, deciding she had room for another cup of tea. "She wants ta do somethin', and does it 'cause she don't see any reason not ta. I ain't sayin' she ain't right ya know, I reckon if one of us were braver we'd be up there too." The two others digested the fox's statement, and both grudgingly accepted she was right.

"I think Naru didn't just pop in to say goodbye." The Okinawan added.

"I'm gettin' that feelin' too, yeah." The dishevelled party-lover fished in the pocket of her dressing gown and withdrew a bottle of spirits, adding a dash to her recharged cup. "I don't reckon she knew about this, though. Kei said only Motoko-san here knew about it 'til yesterday, an' we'd have heard her yellin' from downtown Osaka if she'd seen him without his face on."

"Keitaro stated to me that he wanted it a secret from everyone, especially Naru and Haruka." Motoko stated, laying a single pale hand on her katana. "I believe that Naru left just in time, this only leaves Haruka in the dark. I must agree with Keitaro's assessment, it is probably for the best that Haruka does not know of this."

"It is probably for the best that Haruka does not know of what?" The kimono-clad girl stiffened, and the two others spun around in their seats to look guiltily at the stern face of the tall café-owner, who unwound her black scarf from her neck.

"Oh, uhm, Haruka-san. Up so early?" Mitsune stuttered, taking a long gulp of her spiked drink.

"Yes. I always am. You, on the other hand, are not. So what's going on?" The tall woman demanded, pouring herself some tea and taking a seat at the table.

"Long story." The fox hedged, deciding she would rather not be the one to tell Haruka that her nephew had needed surgery on the quiet.

"I've got, oh, an hour 'til I open up. Can't be that long." Seeing the indecision around the table, the older woman raised an eyebrow. "Unless you want me to go and track down my nephew and wring it out of him……" It was instantly apparent to those assembled that this was not a good idea.

"Okay, Haruka-san. I'll tell you." Mitsune and Motoko gave simultaneous gasps of relief as Mutsumi stepped in. Being the only one uninvolved with the numerous LEO trips, she would have it much easier.

"Thank you, Mutsumi-san." The café owner settled herself down, lit a cigarette, and then shot out a hand to grab Mitsune as she tried to slink away. "No rush, girls. A story is best told with an audience, I always say."

"……Uh, okay Haruka-san." The silver fox sat, praying that she could take a drink from the bottle stashed in her pocket. Once Haruka heard the truth, there was no doubt she would need one.

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Keitaro sat with his back against the wall, bathed in the gloom from a cloudy January dawn, seemingly at peace with the world.

Shinobu, who watched him stare at his ceiling from his recently repaired doorway, couldn't help but feel this wasn't the case. It might have been the slump in the shoulders, possibly the tightly clenched hands with knuckles white as the clearing snow.

But really speaking, it was the ripped-up photo booth album by his side which gave the clue something was amiss.

"Keitaro….." Shinobu didn't wait for a response, slipping in through the door and shutting it behind her firmly. "Are you okay?" The girl cursed inwardly, wishing that in the midst of what was an awful situation she could come up with something more than that stupid question.

"It was Motoko, you know?" Keitaro murmured, still peering up at the ceiling, the centre of which was formed by a ring of new-looking boards. "She made me do that. She held me at sword point to remind me that it was what I had to do. I nearly stopped so many times, but thanks to her I kept on going. Every board I hammered into place made it that bit more final. In the end, I was glad I did it. But although I hammered the hole shut, I never really believed it was the end….."

"Kei….." The purple haired girl found herself bereft of anything to say, so she simply walked over to the seated man and slipped down beside him.

"But now it is. It really is the end, Shinobu." Keitaro chuckled emptily, shaking his head. "She came to me last night, offered herself to me. And I turned her down. Now she's gone, who knows for how long. And it's over, officially, truly, forever-and-ever-amen over." The man pulled his glasses off carelessly and put his face in his hands, allowing bitter water to spill down his cheeks.

"Why did you do that to your album?" Shinobu picked up a few fragments of paper, and turned them over. There, looking back at her, were fragments of memories – frame after frame with the man sat alone, and then just a handful of pictures with another within them. These were torn to shreds – no longer could the two faces be seen on the same piece.

"It was so pointless. Every picture was taken as a placeholder. So, one day, I could take another one with her beside me to replace it." The picture still held in the man's grasp crumpled further, then fell unheeded to the floor. "I've wasted all my life chasing something that was never more than a dream. I'm a fool, nothing more."

"Kei, please stop." Shinobu pleaded, afraid to even touch her shaking companion. "Please, it's for the best, you have to see that." Soon as she said it, the girl wished she hadn't.

"For the best?!" The ex-ronin croaked, letting teary eyes focus on the girl beside him. "The love of my life leaves me, and you say it's for the best?"

"Kei, she abused you! Look at yourself in the mirror and tell me that I'm wrong. Think of how you flinch every time anyone goes near you!" Shinobu ranted, letting her anger at the absent girl take over from anxiety. "Do you have any idea how hard that is to watch? And every time you'd go straight back to her, giving her the idea what she had done was right!"

"But Shinobu, I loved her." Keitaro sighed, dashing a hand across his face.

"I'm sure my parents loved each other, but it doesn't make it right. If anything, it makes it even more wrong." The violet-haired girl replied, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. "Please try and see it's true, Kei. Don't let your dreams of a promised girl stop you seeing what's really in front of you."

"You're right, I know deep down." The blue-gowned man let his head rock back and he closed his eyes, still unable to stop further tracks trailing down both cheeks. "I promised myself I would let it go last night, and wake up my own master this morning. I'm finally free from a promise that chained me for two decades; I can make my own choices. So why is it that all I want is to call Naru and ask her if she'll have me back?" Shinobu looked on sadly as Keitaro raised a shaking hand to his face again. "I can't remember the misunderstandings or the violence, only the smile of someone I loved for what seems like forever."

"You can't let it take over you, Kei. You've got five people here who would do anything to see you happy, please give us a chance." The girl whispered, taking her companion's free hand in hers. "You're life's not over; it's getting a fresh start. You can do whatever you like at last."

"It just hurts so much, Shinobu. I don't think you can imagine this feeling." Keitaro murmured, giving the hand a squeeze.

"I can, because I've felt it myself." Shinobu replied reflexively, drawing a surprised look from her beloved.

"You have?"

"Yeah." For a second the purple-haired chef stared hard at the floor, one hand fiddling at the hem of her cherry robe. Eventually, she looked up. "I know the feeling too well."

"When?" Keitaro asked, curious.

"……It was about six months ago. I had to give up on someone I loved because he was in love with another girl. I don't think I ever got over it." Sighed Shinobu, knowing she was taking a step into the abyss.

"Six months ago……" Keitaro's eyes grew slowly wide, and he looked down at the girl beside him. "Shinobu, are you saying?"

"Yes. It was you who broke my heart." Shinobu peered down at the gown she was working at with suddenly numb fingers. "I could never forgive Naru for what she did because she was abusing her position with the one I would have given anything to be with." The purple-eyed girl looked up, meeting the surprised gaze of the man beside her. "I would never hurt the man I love like that. Ever."

"Shinobu….." A delicate hand came up to cup Keitaro's chin gently, and turned it so the two were eye to eye. When Shinobu spoke again, it was in a low, passionate whisper.

"I have to say this now. I never thought I would get the chance, and now that I have I'm going to take it. I don't need an answer, not straight away. And I know this isn't the time, but I've been waiting so long….." Shinobu shook herself out of her babbling, and took a deep steadying breath. "Keitaro, what I mean to say is……I love you….."

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Well, I fancied a proper cliffie for once.

Please don't kill me...

Until next time.

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	9. Chapter 9

Hi there!

Time for another chapter. At last. This one took some doing, but came more smoothly by the end.

Typically for me, I have no idea exactly how this fic is going to end, but I'm beginning to get some ideas. There will be a ship, which one...I don't know. But I'll enjoy finding out.

Thanks to all the reviewers, and a little note as well. I'm happy that everyone will have their own taste and opinions, which they are entitled to. But I have tried to keep this fic as faithful to the manga as possible, and feel I have done a reasonable job. If I contravene the manga, I'd be happy if someone lets me know. And just for 'fionn' to note, I've only seen the first ten minutes of the anime, so I base this fic on the manga which I have read from start to finish.

Oh, and biiiiig thanks to Randomreview. Whilst jumping in to defend my fic wasn't something he or she had to do, I really do appreciate it!

Well, enough rambling, on with the fic.

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Repercussions – Chapter 9

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Haruka took a deep, sighing draw on her cigarette, staring silently at the table. The four others around the table watched her with varying degrees of apprehension. Su seemed more curious at Haruka's silence than apprehensive, but the amount of anxiety rose steadily as the view turned to the others sat at the table. Mutsumi, although not in the firing line, still disliked the tension that hung like Haruka's second-hand smoke in the air. Mitsune dearly, dearly wanted a drink, knowing she was hardly in the café owner's good books to begin with. Factor in her regular participation in numerous set-ups over the years and the fox's trepidation became quite sensible.

No need to explain why Motoko felt like the hand of death was resting upon her shoulder.

"So." Haruka eventually said, once the cigarette was smoked down to the butt and her tea had gone cold. "Basically what you've told me is that, thanks to some short tempers around here, Keitaro has had to have surgery and currently wears more make-up than your average clown to hide it." A few uneasy glances were shared around the table, before Mitsune carefully cleared her throat.

"Uh, that kinda sums it up, yeah."

"I can say one thing, girls. You'd better be thankful Kanako isn't here." Haruka reached for another tobacco stick and lit it without hesitation. "If she was, you'd have to stop every few seconds to make sure your heads were still on your shoulders."

"I'm sure that they meant no harm, Haruka-san." Mutsumi said quietly, trying to dispel what seemed an inevitable explosion.

"Oh, I'm sure you're right, Mutsumi-san." Haruka replied, taking a sip at her cup with a grimace as she realised the liquid was cold. "But the fact remains that they caused it. Make no bones about it, I am not particularly happy with some of you right now."

"Awww, I'm sorry Haruka!" Su whined, sinking down in her seat with a woebegone expression.

"Not you, Su-chan. Or at least not much. You did over-do it with all those mecha-tamas you know."

"But I was only playin'. I always had fun with my oniisan." The tan princess moaned sadly.

"It's a well-known fact that most kinds of trouble start out as fun." Even the stoic older lady couldn't resist the temptation to reach out and pat the miserable girl on the head. "But I'm not really mad with you. There's other people who deserve a chewing-out much more."

"If you wish to exact your own personal retribution upon me, Haruka-san, I will gladly grant you the opportunity." Motoko stated neutrally, assuming a position of deference. Haruka regarded the willowy girl before snorting gently.

"Trust me, if you hadn't started to make it up to him I'd be demanding your ass on a plate right now. But since you've finally got your head on straight, I'll just say this. It's your last warning. As in Last. Warning. I am not my kind-hearted nephew, and I am not going to tolerate any further incidents. Motoko-san, if you draw your sword in anger again in this house your feet will not touch the ground until they hit the pavement outside." The two held each others gaze for several moments, until the swordswoman acceded.

"I understand. You have my word, I will not unsheathe my weapon unless in defence of myself or another." The café owner nodded in response, knowing that the swordswoman was trustworthy. But on the other hand…..

"Mitsune-san. You are also on your last warning." The silver-haired girl spluttered mid-way through a sneaky sip of liquor, sending sake mist wafting across the table.

"Wha? Whatcha mean?" Haruka pierced her with a glare.

"Exactly what I just said." Mitsune threw her hands up in the air in annoyance.

"I never laid a hand on the guy!"

"From what I remember, you laid both of your hands on 'the guy' at every possible opportunity, if it meant it'd cause him trouble. I know he's just a toy to you, and I can think of endless occasions your 'harmless' jokes left my nephew at the hands of someone who was less than harmless." The fox gaped soundlessly at Haruka, unable to formulate a response. What could she say? To any onlooker, this was exactly what was happening.

"Uh, Haruka-san……"

"Oh, and add to that milking the Hinata-sou for all that it's worth and your continuing irresponsible drinking in front of minors….." The café owner took a satisfied drag on the still smouldering cigarette in her mouth, glad to be getting her annoyance off her chest. "I'd say the last warning is more than overdue."

"……." Mitsune floundered for a moment before getting up with a huff. "Fine. Whatever you say, Haruka-san." The hung over girl stalked off, muttering darkly under her breath about things only known to herself.

"And that brings me to the last person who needs a damn good telling off. Probably the biggest one as well." Mutsumi blanched as everyone's attention turned to her, being the only one present who hadn't received some of Haruka's wrath. The brunette felt herself beginning to feel faint until she caught the older lady's smile.

"Ara, Haruka-san. Don't scare me like that." The woman in question chuckled quietly before growing serious again.

"It's a good thing for Naru she isn't here. It isn't only Shinobu that would love to get her hands on that girl." Haruka blew out a plume of cigarette smoke with a reflective sigh. "I have no idea what I'd do with her. Half of me would want to shake some sense into her, the other half is full of sympathy – she got screwed up pretty bad before coming here."

"How so, Haruka-san?" Mutsumi was answered with the shake of a head.

"Not for me to tell. All the same, I would have been sorely tempted to kick her out. Seems like she's made the decision for me." Motoko froze, Su blink-blinked slowly and Mutsumi covered an open mouth with her hand.

"You don't mean……"

"All I mean is that, when Naru returns, she's going to have to prove to me that there will be no more of this 'pervert' bullshit. If she can't, well, Seta won't mind putting her up until she can get something else sorted." Haruka looked each of the other girls in the eye, one by one. "Tsuruko was right. It's not acceptable, it's nothing more than brutality. And I won't stand for it any more." With that, the elder lady rose gracefully from her seat and walked across the room, quickly unhooking and donning her coat. Barely a 'goodbye' later she was out of the door and into the bitter winter air, rapidly descending the staircase until out of sight.

Silence reigned around the table for several seconds. Eventually, Mutsumi spoke.

"Ara, is that what's known as reading the riot act?" Motoko 'humphed' in agreement, whilst an unusually morose Su peered at the seat the elder Urashima had recently vacated.

"Haruka was mad. I don't like mad." The tiny foreigner looked ready to start bawling. "I didn't mean to hurt my oniisan. I was just havin' fun, the way he'd flap around and fly through the sky it looked like he was havin' fun too." She seemed to ponder things for a moment before springing up to her feet.

"Su-chan, what are you doing?" Motoko asked, concerned at the slightly wild-eyed look on the younger girl's face.

"I'm gonna go apologise to Keitaro. I don't want him to hate me." Su stated simply, pushing her chair beneath the table. Motoko and Mutsumi exchanged a look that agreed on one fact – whatever was going on in the room above them was probably best left undisturbed.

"Su-chan, wait-" The Okinawan's call was unheeded as a blond-haired blur sped towards the stairs, Motoko on her tail. Mutsumi was helpless to do anything but watch as the pair rounded the top of the staircase, the swordswoman almost within touching distance as they left her sight.

Only to almost instantly re-appear with a crash as the pair ran into someone moving at high speed the other way.

Three bodies hit the floor in a pile, one of which was sobbing loudly. The brown-haired girl carefully stood, mindful of her fainting tendencies, and made her way over to the bodies at the top of the stairs. Su was slowly easing herself into a sitting position, eyes swirling, as Motoko placed a gentle had to her forehead where a bump was already beginning to swell. Mutsumi made her way over to the third figure, and looked down sadly.

Violet eyes stared back, wet and empty.

"Shinobu-chan….." Helping the young girl to her feet, the Okinawan was surprised as Shinobu shook off her hand and quickly set off towards her own room, leaving a trail of water in her wake.

"Huh?" Was the most intelligent comment anyone could make as the three stood on the landing looked back and forth at one another, wondering what the hell had happened. Normally this would be cue for somebody to scream that a certain Kanrinin would pay for making Shinobu cry, but at that moment it just didn't seem…..appropriate, really.

The only certainty seemed to be that, somehow, life had just become even more complicated.

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"Mornin' part-timer." Seta slipped on his white lab coat and gave his protégé-stroke-dogsbody his usual winsome grin around a Marlboro, one that the younger man tried his best to return.

In the end it was more a grimace than a smile. But, Seta reflected, it was an improvement. Almost a week ago mister part-timer had arrived wearing the kind of face that the most suicidal clown couldn't paint on.

"Good morning Seta-san." Keitaro took his seat, intent on completing the work he'd been single-mindedly performing for the last five days. It was only reconstructing a relic that Sara McDougal had smashed over his head the day before that, but it was work all the same.

"Coffee?" The tall archaeologist asked, pouring a second cup before the question was even asked. Although his protégé had stubbornly refused to accept that a cigarette could cure all ills, he still seemed to have belief in a cup of hot mud first thing in the morning.

"Thanks." Seta shook his head – it seemed Keitaro was already engrossed in his work. The guy was losing touch with reality. You only got that lost in work when there was something you were trying to forget.

Seta had heard all of the details from his wife. Haruka had not been a happy bunny when she spent the night a few days back. He still wore the bruises he'd gained by cheerily pointing this out to her. She'd made up for every single one later on that night, but that was another story. One that concludes with several satisfied cigarettes and the purchase of a new mattress.

Given what he had been told, Seta wasn't surprised at the change in his protégé's outlook.

It didn't mean he couldn't be slightly concerned.

"I've heard rumours that there's more ruins to be found on Pararaklese." He murmured, fishing milk out of the fridge.

"That's nice." Came the absent reply, as Keitaro pieced together another two fragments of what was once priceless pottery.

"And in England they reckon they're close to cracking the mystery of Stonehenge."

"Uh-huh." Seta added a spoon of sugar to both cups and stirred slowly, a half-inch of fag ash threatening to topple into the hot liquid.

"Apparently, ninety percent of Molmolian relics are actually prehistoric sex aids."

"Sounds like fun."

"And the Welsh are allergic to clouds."

"I'll do some research into it." Seta shook his head in amusement as something slowly filtered through to Keitaro's brain, and he suddenly looked up with an expression of irritation. "What do you mean, there are more ruins on Pararaklese? We traced every square inch of that island."

Anyone less cool than Seta would have found themselves face-down on the floor.

"Sorry, made that one up part-timer. Good to see you're awake." The cigarette-smoking man set a steaming mug on the side of Keitaro's desk, and knocked the ash from his nicotine stick into a handily placed artefact. "If you want a lie-in, you know I'm happy to have one myself. Just let me know in advance."

"Nah, I'm fine Seta-san." Keitaro reached out a grateful hand towards his cup, only to have it snatched away from his grasp by a blond-haired girl.

"Too slow, dumbass." Sara took a mouthful, and swallowed with a grimace. "I'm not surprised that you're taking forever to piece together a stupid bowl if that's as fast as your hands get."

"Eheheheh, speed was never my strong point." The brown-eyed man replied, scratching at the back of his head. The girl perched herself on the edge of the desk, taking another mouthful of coffee.

"No shit." Keitaro winced as the eleven-year-old swore casually, quite happily draining what was until moments ago his drink.

"Now Sara-chan, enough of that." Seta said mildly, pouring a third mug of coffee.

"Sorry, papa." The pre-teen replied, quite clearly not sorry in the least.

"Thanks, Seta-san." Keitaro said as he accepted a new steaming cup and grasping it tightly, this time intending to actually drink some of it.

"Ahhhh, much better." Sara gasped as she drained the last of her stolen coffee. The pink shirted girl gave an un-petite burp with obvious satisfaction before fixing the cup currently in the part-timer's grasp with a beady blue-eyed stare.

"Uhhhh, Sara-chan, aren't you meant to be going to school?" The seated man asked nervily, holding his mug yet tighter. Sara snorted derisively.

"Nah, can't be bothered today. Felt like hanging around with papa, seeing what he was doing." Keitaro had to resist the desire to bang his head on the table. The translation to that statement was 'I want to make your life hell, because it's more fun than class.'

"You know that come later this year you'll be in high school, and then you're going to have to go." Seta put in, swiping a stray drop of coffee from his mouth using a white sleeve.

"Yeah, whatever. It's getting boring hanging around here with two old men anyway. Never seem to get anyone interesting visiting." The blonde American twisted a few strands of hair around her fingers before another thought came to mind. "Come to think of it…..Hey dork, where's that girl that used to hang round you for god-knows-what-reason got to? She was cool, pretty too, though what she was doing with a loser like you I don't know." For a moment the only sound was Seta sipping at his coffee and Sara's idly swinging legs bumping against the legs of the desk.

"She's busy with her course. They're preparing for exams over there, and she's up to her eyeballs in work." The bespectacled student lied, badly. Sara raised a fair eyebrow, before shrugging.

"Whatever. I reckon she's better off there anyways." The young girl slipped off the edge of the desk, and she stretched cat-like. "Well, catch you later. I'm gonna go watch some TV, reckon Pokemon should be on about now." With that Sara strolled off, dumping her cup unwashed in the sink before slipping into Seta's spare room. For a few seconds the two men both stared into their cups, thinking.

"Sorry about that part-timer. Swear to god that girl hit teenager-hood two years early." Keitaro waved the apology away.

"It's no trouble, that's just Sara for you." The pair took another sip of their drinks.

"All the same, she shouldn't say things like that, especially considering….."

"Don't worry about it. She doesn't know what's going on, and I'm happy keeping things that way." Keitaro shrugged gently, before leaning back to stare out of the window. "I dread to think what she'll say and do if she finds out the truth. In all honesty I wouldn't have told you either, if I wasn't sure you already knew." Seta set his empty mug down.

"How did you know I did?"

"You offered me a cigarette." The 'part-timer' stated simply. "Something had to be up if Seta Noriyasu was offering his precious tobacco to me. Well, that and the fact you're married to my aunt……"

"Good point." Silently, the unshaven man offered his student a cigarette, which was politely declined, before taking one for himself. "Besides, smokin's not a habit to get into. Bit of a joke me saying that with a ciggy in my mouth, but there you go." Seta lit up casually, and blew out a plume of smoke in a manner not unlike Haruka.

"Well, you'll know the day I take up your offer is the day the girls officially have driven me insane." Keitaro stuck the last piece of pottery in place, and sat back with a satisfied smile. "Which won't be too long at this rate."

"Worse than usual then?" The older man asked, taking a seat at the desk opposite, this one haphazardly stacked with paper and books and littered with ashtrays. "Thought it might have settled down after Naru left. You haven't taken any fresh injuries, have ya part timer?" It was not known to Haruka that Seta had been the one to help Keitaro find the appropriate medical assistance when the strain had finally begun to show. Seta was more than happy for that to continue being the case.

"No, I'm fine. Physically anyway." Keitaro rocked back on his chair, propping his feet on his desk. "I don't know. Motoko is stressed all the way out, she's got centre exams on her mind. Thankfully today she'll have her results, which is a relief. Mutsumi is her usual self, thank god. Su has gone to ground, something's not right with her. I'm going to have to do something for her, I've been so self-centred that I missed something important." With that the brown-eyed man sighed, propping his chin on his hands. "Kitsune I'm worried about, she's completely going off on one. Don't think she's been sober for five days. And as for Shinobu……"

"Shinobu?" Seta was surprised. If there was one person in the Hinata-sou that would rather eat pond slime than go against the Kanrinin it was the purple-haired chef.

"Yeah. It's my fault I guess. But I just didn't know what to do. First I have Naru throw herself at me, then leave. Next the whole world finds out about my little secret, and minutes later I have a sixteen-year-old proclaiming her everlasting love. I kinda got tongue tied, said the wrong thing. Or the right thing in the wrong way. I'm not sure." The student removed his feet from the table, letting his chair return to the ground with a thud. "All the same, I didn't mean to hurt her, not like that. Ever since she's been someone different. More upright and deliberate. Just not, well, Shinobu."

"I know you don't want to tell me what happened, otherwise you just would have." Seta said casually, leaning back in his own seat and closing his eyes. "Give it time, part-timer. Things usually sort themselves out."

"Maybe." Seeing his mentor unashamedly dozing off, Keitaro shook his head with a smile before selecting another relic to reconstruct. Within minutes he was engrossed in his work, enjoying the simple escape it offered.

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Haruka cleaned the last of her tables as her final customers of the day strolled out into the frigid evening air, chattering happily between themselves. The tall woman resisted the urge to slam the door behind them – they had gotten right up her nose with the inane babble about how 'quaint' her shop was, and hadn't even left a tip.

"Bloody tourists." She muttered, taking the used cups to the sink and setting to work scrubbing the brown enamel clean. In all honesty, she was only using the visitors as a focus for her bad temper. But all the same, they _were_ annoying.

Washing cups gave Haruka the chance to think for a while. The foremost question in her mind was what the hell was going on with Shinobu. The girl was on cloud ninety-nine for a good week, until the morning Naru left. Something took place she didn't know about, and there was a sudden about-face. Then, two days later, a knock on the door came late in the evening. She'd opened it with baseball bat in hand, and had been puzzled to find a determined-looking schoolgirl waiting on her step. She had invited the girl in and given her a cup of tea, one that Shinobu had spent some time mulling over. Eventually, the quiet girl had taken a deep breath and looked her in the eye……

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"Haruka-san, I need your help." Haruka gave an internal sigh of relief that the girl had finally drawn up the courage to stop delaying and just come out with it.

"I guessed as such." Putting her drink to one side, the dark-haired woman leaned forwards to look the smaller girl in the eye. "What is it you need, Shinobu-chan?"

"To not be Shinobu-chan any more." The café owner made a face at the cryptic statement, confused.

"Well, if you want to change your name, afraid I can't help you. Your parents might be able to do it, as they still are your legal guardians..." Shinobu shook her head rapidly, cheeks colouring.

"No, that isn't the part I want to change. It's the 'chan' I want to lose." Seeing the other woman's continued confusion, the diminutive girl sighed. Time to lay the cards on the table. "I want you to tell me how to be a woman, Haruka-san. Not a girl any more, a woman." Haruka blink-blinked slowly.

"Uhm, so far as I know, that's something only age can do."

"But I'm sixteen! I'm of legal age by law. Well, not to smoke or drink, but you know what I mean." Shinobu threw her hands up in frustration. "Why does everyone still see me as a kid?" _Or one person in particular….._ Haruka thought to herself.

"Shinobu-chan, being a 'woman' isn't something that just happens overnight. You don't wake up on your sixteenth birthday with a deeper voice or an extra dose of maturity. Growing up makes you into a different person, and like it or not you've got some of that to do yet."

"Please, Haruka-san." The girl set her cup down and looked at the café owner with desperation in her eyes. "Please, just give me some help. Anything, I've got to show everyone I'm not a child any more."

For several long moments the smoking woman regarded the girl before her. Eventually, she nodded, and put her cigarette down. "Okay. I'll give you some ideas. But don't go thinking this is the blueprint to adulthood, since it's only when things come naturally that everything feels right." The smile that lit up Shinobu's face suggested her warning went unheeded.

"Great! Hang on a second….." The girl set to rummaging in a small white handbag, before yanking out a pink-covered notepad and pencil. "Okay, fire away." Haruka had to hold in a spurt of laughter at the girl's intent pose, looking just like a ten-year-old in her favourite lesson. It seemed she had her work cut out for her.

"Well, it's not just about wearing a neat kimono, or knowing when to bow and how to sit." Haruka relaxed back in her seat, taking a long look at the ceiling. "It's about manner, about what you say, and more importantly what you don't." The dark-haired lady took a reflective puff on her cigarette, before glancing back down at the girl opposite. Who was busy copying the sentence, verbatim, into her notebook. This time Haruka failed to keep in a snort of laughter. _You've got a long, long way to go, girl._

"What was that, Haruka-san?" The honest innocence in the question nearly sent the temporary teacher into another fit of laughter.

"Nothing at all." Shinobu peered at her curiously before shrugging and accepting Haruka's statement.

"Okay. So, how about clothing?" Haruka took another slow look at her happily smiling student, before holding in a sigh. It seemed that Shinobu had even further to go than she'd imagined.

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It had gone on for quite some time that night. And the night following. It would have gone on again the night after that, but Haruka had pleaded other arrangements. It wasn't that Shinobu annoyed her at all, it was simply that half the time she wanted to burst out laughing at the youthful determination the purple-haired girl displayed, and half the time sigh in exasperation at exactly the same feature.

It just wasn't her. Haruka doubted that Shinobu could never be the paradigm of womanhood that she was attempting to be – the girl was just too free spirited. It didn't help that the model she seemed to be basing things on was seemingly out of the Edo era.

Lord knows where she got it from...

In any case, the girl seemed to have raided Motoko's kimono drawer, and seemed to insist on offering people tea and bowing every time someone spoke to her.

Which amused Motoko and Mutsumi, but confused the hell out of Su and Keitaro.

Mitsune was probably too smashed to notice.

Finally drying off the last mug, Haruka realised she was late. Late for what she wasn't sure, but she set to putting them away quickly. Keitaro said something was going on up in the Hinata-sou, and gave her a look that suggested she had better be there. The lady knew her neph- uh, her relative well enough to see when he was serious.

The only way to find out what about was to get her arse in gear.

The cigarette smoking woman locked her café firmly and set off up the staircase, glad that the snow had held off thus far. It probably wouldn't much longer, the moist chill in the air and low clouds illuminated by spill off the city lights suggested weather reports would be spot on later in the night. The bitter air seemed more pervasive than ever, and the slim figure wrapped her scarf more tightly around her.

_I must be getting old_. Haruka mused with a tiny smile. _Although if anyone says that to me, they might find out that sometimes silence is wise._

After what seemed an endless climb, the lady found herself at the front door of the Hinata-sou and mildly out of breath. After taking a moment to compose herself and consider the benefits of quitting smoking, the dark-haired woman slid the door open and entered into the welcoming light and warmth.

Time to find out what Keitaro was ruining her nice peaceful evening for.

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Keitaro was busy setting the table with the assistance of Shinobu, who on this occasion was dressed in a very nice maroon Kimono, complete with what appeared to be all the trimmings. She was also bowing to him every time he said a word, and calling him 'Keitaro-sama'.

Which was equal parts curious and disturbing.

Resolving to try and work out what exactly the violet-haired chef was doing at the next possible opportunity, the Kanrinin finished arranging nine chairs at the table as his aunt walked in.

"Good evening, Haruka-obasan." A solid 'thwack' of a harisen later, Keitaro adjusted his greeting to something Haruka appreciated more.

"Okay then Keitaro-bozu, what's all this about?" The lady peered at the carefully set table, as her nose told her that something very nice was cooking in the kitchen Shinobu had just entered. Spicy, but nice.

"I'd kinda like to know myself." Hearing her husband's voice behind her, Haruka spun to see the unshaven archaeologist smirking slyly, Sara in tow. Whilst the man wore an old white shirt with the two top buttons open, he still managed to look more dignified than his adoptive daughter. Who was clad in a dress that was so pink it was offensive, and looked thoroughly unhappy to be there.

"Ara, that makes, um, six of us." Mutsumi voiced, making her cautious way down the stairs with a pensive Motoko and a ragged Mitsune in tow.

"In a second." Came the smiling response. "Would you care to take a seat?"

"When you get around to telling me what's going on." Haruka stated firmly, irritated.

"Well, okay then. Everything ready, Shinobu...chan?" Receiving an affirmative response, Keitaro cupped his hands around his mouth, and called out. "Su-chan! Dinner!"

A small blond and brown comet hurtled into the room, before stopping on a sixpence at the sight of the assembled company.

"Huh?" The little Molmolian cocked her head in curiosity as she regarded her regular playmate and partner in crime Sara, who was suddenly looking much happier to have been dragged away from the TV. "Whatcha all doin' here?"

"Well, I called them over, thought they might like to join us." Keitaro pulled back one of the chairs, and gestured with a jacket-clad arm. "Would you care to take your seat, madam? The starter will not be far away..." Mutsumi and Motoko chuckled at the hammy display, whilst Su needed no second invitation. Eventually, everyone took their respective seats before Haruka asked the inevitable question.

"So, are you actually going to tell us?" Looking around the table and seeing six pairs of curious eyes staring back at him (Su being too distracted by the imminent arrival of food to bother) the young man scratched the back of his head with customary embarrassment. "Guess I forgot, huh." The six pairs of eyes continued staring. Until, eventually...

"So?" Mitsune prompted, whilst Haruka shook her head with a chuckle. Seta was turning Keitaro into a clone of himself.

"Uh, well, a week ago we all missed something important." The kanrinin turned to Su. "Su-chan, why didn't you mention it at the time?"

"'Cause everyone was so busy." The tan princess replied, unusually subdued. "Didn't want ta bother anyone, there was badness going on. It's not important."

"Su-chan, turning seventeen is important." Several gasps around the table announced that more than one person was ignorant of the fact. "So, this is your slightly delayed birthday party, and I can't say I'm sorry enough that it wasn't on time." Seeing Keitaro's face falling, Su pounced across the table to rub her cheek cat-like against her Kanrinin's.

"Awwww, Su's not mad Keitaros. I'm happy we're havin' it now, I don't want my oniisan sad." Seeing the man's expression lifting again, the diminutive girl sprang back across the table, landing with the softest of thuds back in her chair. "Now bring on the food!" She crowed, flinging gleeful arms into the air.

"One more thing." Keitaro said, looking towards the ebony-haired swordswoman who was grasping an envelope in her hands and looking as anxious as she ever got. "Motoko-san, care to do the honours?" The girl gave the table a sickly smile before tearing almost frantically at the envelope, quickly withdrawing a slip of paper. Unfolding it rapidly she scanned it, before her eyes widened to the size of saucers. Trembling fingers dropping the piece of paper, the normally implacable girl put her hands over her mouth, staring blankly at Keitaro sat opposite her. It was Seta who scooped the discarded sheet up from the floor, and read it thoroughly. His eyes also widened minutely, and he passed it silently to Keitaro.

Who seconds later had thrown it skywards with a whoop of joy.

"Motoko-san!" The Kanrinin gave up on any pretence of formality and raced around the table to engulf the seemingly dumbstruck girl opposite with a joyous hug. It was Mitsune who seized the paper and read the contents.

"Second. Ranked second in the nation." The fox's eyes opened wide, and several people around the table gasped.

"Ara, second?" Mutsumi blinked slowly at the swordswoman, who she'd never seen look quite so speechless.

"What's second? Does it taste good?" Koalla chirped.

"I'd say it does." Motoko said shakily, regaining some semblance of balance.

"I told you! Knew you'd do it!" Keitaro unthinkingly gave the pale girl a kiss on the cheek, one that caused both her face and several others around the table to colour. (Mitsune put hers down to the swig of sake she'd stolen whilst everyone else was busy.)

"Thank you, Kei-kun." Murmured the black-haired kendoist, trying unsuccessfully to regain her normal complexion with the man still hugging her shoulders. _Damn, I'm going to be blushing all night after that..._

"Food is ready!" Shinobu called from the kitchen. Keitaro detached himself from Motoko and hurried to get the dishes before Su launched herself bodily through the door to fetch them herself.

As he set the first steaming plate down on the table the Kanrinin hoped that, between the good mood and the dinner prepared, everyone would be too cheerful for anything to happen this time.

Wrong. As usual.

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The starter had been demolished, and the main course – inevitably curry, one that Su received a special spice shaker to accompany – enjoyed by all. It was mid-way through desert (banana split, equally inevitably) that Sara clocked that something wasn't right.

Papa had told her to be on her best behaviour. But this was Sara McDougal we're talking about.

"Hey dork, where's the girl with the glasses?" The blond pre-teen scanned the table once more, ignoring that most of the people sat at it had stopped eating.

"Naru is, uh..." Keitaro glanced around, realising that lying to Sara was not going to look good in front of so many people.

"Uh what? C'mon, spill the beans."

"She's gone home for a while." He eventually mumbled, hoping the half-truth would satisfy the nosey girl.

"Home huh? Man, that's boring." Sara fiddled with her desert, staring at the ex-ronin. Slowly, a cruel smile began to ease its way onto her mouth. "What's she doing home during term then? She had all Christmas to go, so why now?" The piercing tone began to irritate Keitaro, who was doing his best to ignore her.

"Family emergency." Mutsumi broke in - too quickly.

"Oh, convenient." The young girl leered, sensing collusion. "You wanna know what I reckon?"

"Now now, Sara-chan." Seta admonished gently.

"I reckon she's fed up of ya, and wanted to get away for a while to see what real men are like."

"..." Keitaro didn't reply, but Mutsumi paled as the hand tightly clutching his knife began to shake.

"Enough, Sara-chan." Haruka said firmly, giving the girl a cold glare, which did nothing to the irreverent girl but confirm her allegations. Something she apparently enjoyed giving the way she crowed in triumph.

"Knew it! Nice one Naru, about time you came to your senses! I could have told you ages ago, dump the dork-"

"SHUT UP!" Sara nearly wet herself in fright as Keitaro sprang to his feet, slamming his fists down on the table. "Just give it a rest, you insufferable brat!" The normally mild-mannered man roared, before suddenly realising where he was. For several seconds no-one moved, no-one breathed.

"Kei-kun?" Mutsumi murmured, reaching up a hand onto the man's shoulder. He blink-blinked for a moment, before easing up from his chair.

"Please excuse me, I think I'm finished. Thank you for the food, Shinobu-chan." The man strode off to the stairs, taking them two at a time, before leaving sight.

Silence reigned.

"Shit." Mitsune muttered, pouring herself a glass of wine from the selection of bottles on the table. "Way ta go, Sara-bozu. Thought he was gettin' over things, and you have ta open yer stupid yap..." The fox drained half a glass of white and relaxed back in her seat, eyes closing.

"Wha-hey! Don't you say that to me!" The blond girl protested, still shocked at the reaction.

"Sara-chan. Take a look around." Seta muttered quietly. His adoptive daughter did so, heart sinking further and further as she met each face. Haruka and Motoko cold and disapproving. Mitsune ignoring her completely. Shinobu looking close to furious as she'd ever seen her. Mutsumi looking up towards the stairs, eyes too bright to be dry. Su...

Su had never looked at anyone with dislike, let alone her. But now, there was definitely a hint of anger in her stare.

Suddenly, Sara felt very small and alone.

"I-I..." The girl wanted nothing more than to hide behind her papa's coat until everyone else went away. But she was being firmly held in place by the man, forcing her to endure the scrutiny.

She didn't even notice the tears until they began pattering in her lap. For the first time in her life, Sara McDougal realised what it meant to have hurt someone, and what it meant to face the consequences. She'd always done what she did out for fun or out of petty spite, for enjoyment, never considering what her words could actually do. Shame and guilt overwhelmed the eleven-year-old, drowning her in a torrent of despair, one she had no chance of swimming against.

Her next memory was sobbing into her papa's chest, nursing an awful headache with her nose running like a tap. Slowly she peeled her face away, and cast a look around the table. Haruka and Motoko were both still present, drinking leisurely glasses of red and deep in conversation. Mitsune seemed to be sleeping sat up, drool slowly seeping from one corner of her mouth.

Washing up noises from the kitchen suggested that at least two others were in there. Shinobu and Su's voices could just be heard, subdued. Mutsumi had vanished completely.

"Sara-chan." Seta murmured, shifting slightly.

"Yes, papa?" Sara gurgled, trying to clear her throat.

"Are you okay?" The bespectacled man gazed down at her with a lopsided smile.

"Yeah..." Slowly, the blond-haired girl eased herself up, cursing her throbbing head.

"I'm glad." Seta muttered, fixing his adoptive daughter. "So, do you want to say sorry?"

"...Yeah..."

"Are you willing to go up there and tell him?" Motoko asked, surprising the girl.

"No." Sara stated, startled.

"Then shut up and forget the idea." Haruka said bluntly, studying her nails. "Mutsumi has already gone. I think you'd best off staying with me and Seta."

"Okay, Haruka-san." Sara acceded, deciding that she wasn't really up to apologising to 'the dork'. Maybe tomorrow. Or next year. Maybe in the next life. But not now. She was still shaken to the soles of her sock-clad feet by the look he gave her before he left. The blond girl had never seen someone look so...desolate.

"Speaking of 'staying' Haruka, mind if lodge here tonight?" Seta asked, gesturing at the silent snow falling with ebullient energy outside. "It started about ten minutes after the food did, there's probably half a dozen inches on the ground by now."

"Yeah, sure. You can share my room, and Sara-chan will have to shack up with one of the girls. Or stay in Naru's room, but that's a bit bare at the moment." The girl considered her options, and decided to pay a visit to Su. She wasn't going to stay mad...probably.

"Mind you, after the last party this is pretty tame." Haruka mused, lighting up another of her endless cigarette supply and taking an easy puff. "At least there's no bloodshed yet..."

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"I thought you'd go to your room." Mutsumi said gently, breath misting in the snow-laden air.

"Decided to be radical." The man beside her answered with a hint of bitter humour. The Okinawan drew her hands around herself, aquamarine jacket not enough to keep out the cold.

"Ara, Wind is having a lazy night tonight." She commented, leaning on the same railings as Keitaro.

"How so?"

"Well it can't be bothered going around things, so it's going straight through instead." The man let out a tiny chuckle, staring out into space.

"Hasn't anyone told it that exercise is good for you?" Mutsumi brushed a few flakes of snow from her hair, staring at the same nondescript spot.

"If someone did, it didn't listen."

"Seems that way." The pair stared out into the darkness in silence. The mahogany-haired girl let Keitaro brood, quite happy to just be in his company. The girl knew the man beside her, and knew that he would speak when he wanted to speak. And if he wasn't tonight, then fine. She wasn't Shinobu, who would push to be heard, or Naru who would get bored waiting. She'd be there when he was ready, whenever that may be.

The silence passed, well, silently.

The Okinawan shivered once, unwilling to let the cold force her inside.

And she was _not_ going to let a fainting spell take her. No way.

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"You okay, Mutsumi?" The mahogany-haired girl's eyes fluttered open, and she found herself peering up into a pair of matching irises from close range. Blinking rapidly, she noticed that she was standing at quite an awkward angle, and that Keitaro was supporting her with two arms snugly bound around her waist.

"Ara, I'm fine Kei." Mutsumi carefully eased her weight back onto her feet, light-headedness receding slowly.

"Good." The brown-haired man watched her for a few seconds, before going back to regarding the view.

"Don't mind me." As she turned to watch the falling snow again, the Okinawan cursed her fragility. She'd been so determined not to disturb Keitaro, and what did she go and do? Now he was never going to open up...

"I don't. I never will." Keitaro turned around to rest his back against the red-painted railing, staring back at the Hinata-sou. "You're not someone who forces things. I think of all the people I know, only you and Motoko would have let me be. Which is all I wanted. Shinobu, for example, would have badgered me 'til kingdom come. Not that I dislike it, it's her way of showing she cares. But all the same..." The man trailed off, letting out a silent sigh.

"Kei, I'm afraid I'm curious. What happened that morning?"

"A week ago?"

"Yes." Mutsumi fidgeted nervily as Keitaro frowned.

"Well, she decided to pledge her undying love to me." The Okinawan bit back a gasp. "At that time, I was a mess, Naru had gone, and then she goes and says that. I didn't know what to think. In the end I blurted out something I didn't really mean. Or something I mean, but in the wrong way, I don't know." There was a pregnant pause, as Mutsumi scrutinised Keitaro carefully, taking in his agitated posture.

"What did you say?"

"I said 'but you're so young!'" Keitaro laughed emptily, hand scratching the back of his head. "I don't know what I meant by that. I love Shinobu, love her to pieces. But she is so young..."

"She's sixteen. Seventeen this year." The bespectacled man shook his head ruefully, mouth in a humourless grin.

"I know, I know. She's flowering into a lovely young lady now, and she's really growing up. But I don't know, I still see in her the meek twelve-year-old I first met. I'm so confused, I really don't know what to make of it all."

"So you're not sure what you feel for Shinobu." Mutsumi replied honestly. Keitaro nodded.

"Pretty much sums it up, yeah." The man held out a bare palm, catching an errant snowflake. "I'm not sure if I want to protect her as a brother or as a husband. I can't work it out..." Keitaro trailed off, voice pensive.

"Ara, give it time Kei. The answer will come." The pair stood in companionable quiet, the hum of snowflakes falling to earth the only noise. Eventually a disparaging laugh interrupted the peace.

"I wish it would. I'd have had thought that I'd have an answer, or at least a bit of relief from the agony by now." He didn't have reference the girl by name, Mutsumi knew exactly who he was talking about. "I'm not so angry at Sara as I am at myself, why did I react like that down there? I should be over this by now!" Sensing the normally placid Kanrinin growing angry, Mutsumi gently placed a delicate on his shoulder.

"Kei, it's perfectly normal. How long have you been chasing Naru's shadow? Twenty-plus years?" Feeling the man trembling, the brown-eyed girl placed her second palm on Keitaro's other shoulder, steering him to face her. "I'm no professor, but I understand. That kind of shock takes more than a night's wailing to get over." God knows did Mutsumi understand, she'd cried herself to sleep for nearly a month after Keitaro and Naru hooked up.

"A night's wailing? You mean..."

"Kei, my room is just down the hall. A deaf woman in a soundproofed box could have heard you the night Naru left. Or at least, a deaf woman who was awake..." Mutsumi trailed off, slipping one hand from it's position to wipe Keitaro's cheeks dry. "Besides, Sara deserved it. It's about time that someone showed her that cruelty has a price to pay." The man in front of her couldn't even raise a smile.

"It doesn't make things any easier." Head bowed, Keitaro stared at his feet through blurry eyes.

"It won't. Nothing will." Mutsumi's hand moved to cup the distraught man's cheek. "Except time. Give yourself enough, Kei. Don't try and be the hero just because you're expected to be. Let yourself say goodbye properly, and stop pretending it's all okay when it isn't. I won't think less of you, none of us will."

"Mutsumi..." Keitaro's overflowing eyes spoke louder than his faltering voice ever could.

"Shhhh Kei, words are for later. Actions speak louder, you know?" With that the gentle Okinawan pulled Keitaro to her, resting his head against her shoulder, waiting for the inevitable.

Slowly, oh so slowly, the man in her embrace began to shake. Then the first sob, as the rumble preceding the avalanche. Eventually the sound of weeping permeated the night air. As Keitaro mourned a love lost, the girl holding him almost enjoyed the sound, the song of farewell. She ached at the music, but saw within the chance of a new start. A new beginning, one that she could share.

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The eyes watching from the shadows became moist. Both at the anguish on display, and the way the Okinawan embraced the distraught man.

The eyes blinked to clear themselves, and a quiet sigh blended in with the sound of sadness.

This made things difficult. Obviously Mutsumi was close to Keitaro, and this made things difficult.

The voyeur silently made her exit, mind in a whirl. What to do, what to do?

The only certainty was that she wanted the Kanrinin for herself, and was willing to do anything in her power to get her way. It might be her only chance...

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All done!

Hope no-one minds the wait, I really do apologise for it. I try to get chapters out fortnightly at least, but this time life got in the way...

Thanks again to all the reviewers, and I hope that anyone who's read this chapter has enjoyed it!

'Til next time,

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	10. Chapter 10

Hi there, it's Nodoka again.

Just about managed to get this chapter done on time! My next opportunity would be in a week and a half, by which time most people would have gotten bored waiting and drifted off to do something else.

…..Well, maybe most people have already done that, but to those few who are actually looking forward to another chapter, I didn't want to make you all wait!

Another little response to a review; when I began this fic I had no ship firmly in mind, and only a few set pieces and plot devices I wanted to try out. Now, I have a better idea where this fic is going, and have narrowed the ship options down to two. Or maybe three. As for who? Guess time will tell…..

Thanks a million once again to all those who reviewed, they make my week. Hell they make, my month. I never dreamed I'd get 50 reviews let alone 150. Please keep them coming!

Oh, and to the person who PM'd me, I'm sure I'll enjoy reading your fics, although I need reassurance there's no Negima spoilers in store. I'm only up to volume 15 of the Manga…..and I HATE spoilers.

Enough twittering for today. On with the fic.

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Repercussions – Chapter 10

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Keitaro awoke, eyes fixing blurrily on the ceiling above him, one that still looked oddly unfamiliar without the hole adorning it's surface. He allowed his eyelids to close again, fully intending on returning to the land of dreams, before an odd noise caused them to flicker open again.

The sound of movement from the room above him.

The ex-ronin was upright in a flash, nearly earning him a Mutsumi-style syncope attack. Clutching his chest of drawers for balance, Keitaro allowed the room to stop spinning whilst taking some deep breaths. No point in rushing things, better to get there slowly and intact than quickly with a couple more scars to the collection. After a minute the world had stopped revolving enough for the man to make his way to the door and slip his way through it.

A few seconds later the resident Kanrinin re-appeared in his room, unhooking his dark blue dressing gown from the back of the door with a mild blush. No point in running through the house with only a pair of boxer shorts hanging on his scrawny frame, after all.

Suitably attired, Keitaro left the room again, hurrying towards the stairs. There was no way Naru could be back already – she'd only been gone a week, and no-one had heard a peep from her since. Besides, if she had returned, why hadn't she told anyone?

Before he knew it, the brown-haired man was at the door of room 304. For a second he peered at the number plate, wishing he'd remembered to put on his glasses. Scratching his chin idly, Keitaro winced as he realised that there was something else he had forgotten to put on. He was about to turn tail and leg it back to his room when the door before him slid open.

Keitaro stared wild-eyed at Naru's face. Or at least the space where Naru's face should have been.

"Eh? What you loitering around out here for, dork?" An affronted voice caused the hazel-eyed man's gaze to trail downwards, to rest on a confused Sara McDougal staring back up at him.

"Oh, uh, Sara-chan….."

"Yeah, well spotted." Smirked the blond, lips quirking into a grin.

"It was you in here? Not Naru?" Keitaro asked, confused.

"Well, yeah. I've been sleeping here after all. Speakin' of which, where has she gone….." The American trailed off as her blue eyes finally took in the state of the face looking back at her. "Jesus Christ dork, what the hell happened to you? Ya look like you took a spoon to a knife fight."

"Mmmm, don't worry about it Sara-chan. Long story." The blond preteen gulped slightly as a hint of the faraway look that had haunted her since yesterday made itself known in Keitaro's eyes. She hadn't managed much sleep as a result of that distant gaze.

"Uh…." Sara faltered as the man before her shrugged, before turning away.

"Breakfast will be ready in half an hour. Go grab a bath before it's ready." Keitaro called over his shoulder, tugging his dark gown tightly around his shoulders to stave off the winter chill. Sara stared blankly at the leaving figure before something told her that letting him go was not a good plan.

"Dor-uh, Keitaro-san…..." The schoolgirl bit her lip as the man froze, head slightly cocked to one side.

"Yes?" Came the reply.

"I'm, uh, well, could you, uh, come in here a minute?" Sara gestured back to the open door, praying for the man to accede. She had to say something, but there was no way she would do it stood in an open passageway.

"Sure, why not." Keitaro turned around slowly and strolled back towards the girl, face blank. Sara swallowed as he entered the indicated room, for the first time in her young life feeling apprehensive.

"Okay." The blond slipped into the room herself, and faced the man who stood aimlessly in the middle of the floor, hands in pockets. It was at that moment the eleven-year-old realised how much Keitaro looked like 'papa' – she'd seen the same posture a thousand times before, usually when Seta was waiting for the kettle to boil. Sara didn't know if it made things easier or harder. Dropping her eyes, the girl fiddled nervously with a neon pink button attached to her equally pink pyjamas, suddenly tongue-tied.

"So?" The preteen winced. Although Seta had often stood in that way, he'd never addressed her in that tone of voice. Clearly, although Keitaro wasn't boiling mad any more, he was more than angry enough to be cold.

"Uh, well….." Sara scuffed the floor with a bare toe, lost for words. She couldn't bluntly apologise, she just couldn't. It was something she'd never done in her life. "I don't know, really……"

"Well then, please excuse me. I've got things to do, like dressing." The kanrinin stated blandly, beginning to step towards the girl who scrambled to think of a way to keep him in the room.

"Why did Naru leave?" As the moving foot paused Sara held her breath, not daring to look up.

"None of your business, Sara-chan." The response was blunt, and the girl winced again. She'd never, ever seen Keitaro get annoyed, and it scared her. The man was supposed to be invincible to both verbal barbs and ancient pottery. Sara had never expected to be on the receiving end of a harsh word from 'the dork'.

It seemed she'd misjudged things slightly.

"But, uh, I want to know."

"Why." Sara clenched her teeth together, despising the prickling from the corners of her blue eyes. Not only did she dismiss the idea of Keitaro ever getting angry, she also underestimated the effect it would have on her. The girl expected it to be irritating like the buzzing of a fly, or pathetic like a squeaking mouse. She didn't know that every word coldly spoken could be a punch to the stomach.

"Because I do, okay?" She ground out, looking at the bare peach walls, the varnished floor, anything but the man in front of her.

"We broke up. She went home because she needs to sort some things out that happened in the past. That's it." Keitaro answered, in a tone that suggested he really didn't want to talk about it.

"When did the floor get fixed?" Sara hedged, having wondered over it for some time during the night.

"About a week before that." The man placed hands on hips, clearly tired with the questioning. "Look, Sara-chan, I've been through this with too many people to count and the story's not getting any more pleasant. Drop it. Please." Sara scoured Keitaro's frowning face for any sign of the cheerily unfortunate ex-ronin she knew, and found none. The person stood before her was a total stranger. Which, for some reason, she couldn't bear.

"I-I'm sorry Keitaro-san." The blond girl picked at the buttons on her shirt again, looking like nothing more than a scared child. "I shouldn't have said anything yesterday. I was mean; I didn't think I'd make you mad." Sara's face scrunched up as she fought herself for control. Apologising for the first time ever was enough, no way would she be caught bawling in public for the second time in as many days.

"Well you did." Came the stern reply. "You need to think before you speak sometimes, Sara-chan. I've seen enough trouble myself thanks to people saying whatever comes to mind. I'm even wearing some reminders right now." Sara peeked up, to see Keitaro studying her carefully.

"Wha?" The man carelessly gestured to a few of the marks adorning his face.

"That one was when I told Naru she looked funny in the morning. That one was from when I was explaining to Motoko the essentials of human biology. Oh, and that one, well, I guess someone just had a bad day." The blond eyes grew wide as questions and answers connected in the American's mind, her ability to draw assumptions proving beneficial.

"Shit, they're from Naru?"

"And Motoko. Oh, Su one or two, although I don't think she meant it. Kitsune too, via one of the others. And….." Sara watched the man trail off, looking at her. Why was he……_oh……_

"Um, sorry." Sara meekly whispered, feeling her eyes prickling anew. The young girl ducked her head, hiding her treacherous orbs. She didn't want the 'dork' to know quite how awful she suddenly felt. "So, uh, how come you got away with it? You didn't get all those since last night." She threw out quickly, hoping for some time.

"Well, Motoko helped me cover things. I reckon I spent about three months straight with make-up on." Sara snorted despite her struggle.

"Make-up? How cute."

"Hid the results though. With Kitsune and Naru around, I only removed or adjusted the make-up when Motoko was with me. Slept with it on, since Naru could stick her head into my room any hour of the day or night. The only problem was cleaning the springs, steam took it off too easily. Thankfully, Kitsune was more than happy to leave me alone if I gave her money on demand." Keitaro laughed humourlessly, before his tone became darker. "It was the night Naru left, well, all I'll say is most of the mask was washed off by morning. I decided as no-one was going to pop through my ceiling at short notice I'd clean it all off for once."

"So how'd it go wrong?" Sara asked, curious.

"Shinobu decided that knocking is optional when you want to give someone a cup of tea." The kanrinin laughed again, this time with honest pleasure. "Glad she did really. Now it's out in the open, and I can relax. I take the stuff off every night now; it used to really play hell with my skin."

"Right. Does Naru-"

"No, she doesn't know." Keitaro finished for Sara, tone suggesting it should stay that way. "Things are a bit different around here since she left."

"Su sure is." Sara blurted, causing the brown-haired man to raise an eyebrow.

"You okay, Sara-chan?" The blue-eyed girl dipped her face again, toes scratching at the varnished floor.

"Yeah….."

"What did Su do? Is this why you're sleeping up here, not in her room?" The caring tone caught Sara by surprise, and she peeked up to see that the 'dork' she knew had re-emerged, wearing his usual winsome smile. For some unfathomable reason, something within her collapsed. Possibly the floodgates.

"She told me that I wasn't her friend any more. That I hurt her 'oniisan' and she didn't like it." Flowing blue eyes searched out brown ones, and through blurry sight Sara could have sworn the man crouching before her, arms spread wide, was the same one that had comforted her for so many years.

"It's okay Sara-chan. I'm fine." Keitaro murmured as the girl accepted the offered hug.

"S-she's my best friend. I don't have many……You're my friend too you dork, I thought I'd lost you as well….." Sara babbled, words coming in a rush. "I teased you, broke things over you, but I don't want you to hate me. I don't want you to leave me alone too….."

"It's fine, don't worry." The blue-gowned man soothed, privately surprised at the intensity of Sara's reaction. Sure, he'd always guessed that most of her vitriol was borne out of pettiness or boredom – a lot of the time she was alone, only in the Hinata-sou had he actually seen her play with anyone. She obviously depended on him a lot more than she let on.

"S-sorry, Keitaro-san." Stepping back, Sara sniffled and wiped at her face.

"No problem Sara-chan. I'll have a little chat with Su later and settle her down." Seeing the blond girl about to speak, Keitaro chuckled. "And don't worry, what happened just now doesn't leave the room. Now, why don't you go and give your face a scrub, I'll get dressed, and we'll meet downstairs in ten?" Smearing some more of the wetness across her face with a sleeve, Sara looked up at the face of the 'dork' she'd grown to know. And, for the first time he could remember, gave him a genuine smile.

"Sure." As Keitaro slipped past her to open the door, the girl spoke up again. "But don't think this changes anything. I've still gotta keep you in line, and that means breaking pottery over your head, dork." Looking back, the Kanrinin saw Sara grinning. Not with malice or too many teeth. Just grinning, like an eleven-year-old should grin.

"Whatever you say, Sara-chan." Blue eyes watched Keitaro leave, before their owner decided to go and get herself cleaned up. Sure, she'd made her peace with the guy. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to continue having her fun now and again……

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A few quiet words before breakfast saw a much cheerier Su and a relieved Sara sat together at the table sharing animated conversation about, well, it's probably best not to speculate. Seta and Haruka smoked up a storm whilst Mutsumi and Keitaro discussed the pros and cons of going to Tokyo U in the inclement weather. Mitsune sat quietly, clothes and eyes baggy, clearly not happy that she was included in the round of wake-up calls.

"Good morning everybody." Motoko called, entering from the top of the stairs, fresh from a morning work-out. Receiving a chorus of replies, the tall lady seated herself beside Mutsumi, now usually her place of choice. The spot the other side of Keitaro was very much reserved for Shinobu – anyone who tried to take it never received more than a look, but it's best not to annoy the person who is cooking the food you are about to eat. Speaking of whom……

"Ah! Good morning Motoko-san. Please, do help yourself to tea; breakfast will be with you shortly." The kimono'd chef bobbed in a polite bow, before returning to the kitchen.

"Ara, I sometimes feel we take advantage of her." Mutsumi murmured, placing a palm on her cheek.

"You know she wouldn't have it any other way." Haruka reassured her.

"Yeah, I don't see why you're complainin'." Sara called out. "You should try living with Seta's cooking. Last thing he cooked tried to eat _me_."

"I have experienced his cooking. Which is why I live here, not with him." The coffee shop owner smirked, knocking some ash into a tray placed between her and her husband.

"I'd say it's edible. After seven days trapped underground by a landslide mind you……" Keitaro chipped in, earning a long look from his mentor.

"I'll have you know I've learnt my recipes from the best books money can buy."

"Unfortunately they were books that had nothing to do with cooking." Haruka added, drawing a few laughs from around the table.

"Oh, before I forget." Motoko said into the following silence. "Keitaro-san, it has been some time since you cleaned the springs. I know that things have been, shall we say, hectic as of late, but that does not mean failure in your duties is acceptable." The swordswoman received a smile and a nod in response.

"No problem Motoko-chan, I'll see to it this afternoon." Caught unawares by the warmth in the smile Motoko busied herself with her tea, trying to pretend her cheeks weren't glowing.

"Ah, whatever. Have we had any post this mornin'?" Mitsune slurred slightly, wishing she was back in bed.

"Nope. Looks like the mail isn't enjoying the weather either." Answered Keitaro, shrugging.

"Ah, good." Mitsune breathed. "It ain't like I ever get anythin' nice anyways."

"Be that as it may, Konno-san, the delay does not mean what you receive will change." Motoko stated plainly, enjoying her drink.

"'Least it gives me another day before I have ta open all that bloody junk mail." The fox bit back, with a hint of venom.

"Now now children. No fighting at the table." Haruka murmured around her cigarette, earning a pair of dirty looks.

"Ah, bugger this. I'm off. Su-chan can eat my share, I'm headin' back ta bed." The silver-blond stood ungracefully from the table, almost tottering sideways before regaining a semblance of poise. "If anyone needs me, they know where ta find me." She finished over her shoulder carelessly, before heading off to her room.

"Breakfast is served!" Shinobu called, hefting onto the table a steaming bowl of rice before heading back off to the kitchen for the rest of the dishes.

"Speaking of which, why are you still here for breakfast, Seta-san?" Keitaro asked, spooning servings of rice first into Mutsumi and Shinobu's bowls before filling his own and handing over the scoop. His mentor didn't reply until everyone else had taken their share, and left Su with the half-bowl remaining to devour.

"Felt like some decent food. I reckon we can make it back to Tokyo University before class at ten; I'll do it in fifteen minutes flat. Not that anyone will turn up, but being the tutor I'm kinda obligated." The taller man leaned back in his chair, bowl cupped in his hands.

"But papa, you said you couldn't make it back last night. And the snow's not much deeper this morning." Sara grouched, sounding put out.

"Yeah well, it's easier in daylight. Besides, it's not every night I get to stay at the Hinata-sou."

"Or to be precise, the Hinata tea shop……." Motoko unexpectedly added, demurely casting her gaze at her fingernails.

"Or, yes, the Hinata tea shop." Seta confirmed, smiling around his tobacco stick languidly.

"Why isn't it every day?" All eyes revolved to look at Sara, who was perched nervously on the edge of her seat.

"Mmmmm. Good question. Why isn't it every day?" Haruka looked sideways at her husband, whose eyes were suddenly crinkling slightly in thought.

"I don't know, Haruka. Maybe it was because your endless snoring kept me up." The dark-haired woman made an irritated noise in the back of her throat.

"It certainly didn't last night, I had to physically pull you out of bed and into the shower. You woke up pretty quickly then, in all departments, if I remember rightly." Haruka paused, and took in the aghast stare of her 'nephew'. "What?"

"Ever heard of too much information, Haruka-obasan?"

"Oh believe me, Keitaro-bozu, there's plenty more than that." Ignoring Keitaro sinking his face into his hands, the slender hostess stared back at her husband. "So, why isn't it?" At this, Sara cleared her throat again.

"Papa, I-I want to stay here." The meek voice brought with it a ringing silence as the blond-haired girl visibly squirmed at the scrutiny her adoptive father was giving her. "I want to stay with you papa, but I'm just so bored, there's no-one to hang round with at home.….." A few more seconds of silence passed, before Seta's mouth cracked into a smile.

"Well, that settles it. Sara, let's go get our stuff." It took a moment for those around the table to work out exactly what was being said. Soon as it did, Haruka broke into a broad grin and Su scooped Sara up into a huge glomp before beginning a complex dance on the table-top.

"Well, looks like we're getting an extra two residents." Keitaro stated cheerily, before ducking as Su's flailing foot sent a half-empty bowl spinning his way.

"Not me, Part-timer. I'm going to be shacked up in the tea house." His mentor replied, sharing a sneaky kiss with his wife.

"Well, guess that means one, ne Kei-kun?" Shinobu smiled, happy at the thought of an extra face to enjoy her cooking. A voice at the door stopped the rejoicing in its tracks.

"No, I think that means two." Instantly eight pairs of eyes swivelled to the front door as a black-haired figure strode through it. The figure set the suitcase in her hand down and stretched her lithe body with obvious enjoyment, before letting grey eyes fix on one person in particular.

"Kanako-chan……" Keitaro breathed, and his sister replied with a pretty smile.

"Kei-kun, it's been too long……"

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Seta and Sara had left the bedlam to load their belongings into the trusty white van the archaeologist drove (often to the brink of destruction). Mutsumi claimed faintness, Motoko studies and Shinobu housekeeping duties to vacate the vicinity. Haruka had to open up shop. Su, well, Su never needed an excuse, the energetic girl just springing off to do something else. Leaving Keitaro and Kanako alone on the sofa to catch up, where Keitaro was presently leaning rather hard against the arm rest.

Although Keitaro had always seen his sister as being merely affectionate, a discussion with Motoko months before had revealed to him that the affection may not all have been sisterly. No blood relationship equals fair game, after all. Hence, the Kanrinin's attempts to clamber over the side of the chair as Kanako tried to climb into his lap.

"S-so, Kanako-chan, what are you doing here?" Kanako peered up at him, pout on her lips.

"I just wanted to see my oniisan. Is that so wrong?" The girl moved herself ever so slightly more towards Keitaro, giving him her best 'puppy dog' eyes. All the man experienced as a result was growing discomfort, alongside a hint of revulsion. This was his _sister_ for god's sake, blood relative or not.

"N-no, not at all, Kanako-chan." Although the experiences of the last through weeks had given Keitaro a degree of confidence with physical contact, he still associated close feminine proximity with big trouble. And, at this moment in time, every single cell in the man's body was screaming one word in perfect unison.

RUN!

"Kei-kun?" Kanako scrutinised her nearly hysterical older brother as her approaches failed to reap the rewards she wanted. Suddenly, something caught her eye. Something below the the Kanrinin's jaw line.

Keitaro's heart nearly stopped beating as a pale finger traced the scar. Everyone at the house now knew about the now not-so-secret secret, and he'd been slapdash with his concealment that morning as a result. The man glanced down and saw Kanako's enquiring look, one that told him she'd not let go until he told her the truth.

He was awful at lying, and Kanako could see it in his face from a hundred paces, wearing a blindfold.

Sighing in anticipation, Keitaro decided to just tell her the whole story.

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Several minutes later, a several things happened at the same time.

Motoko dropped a hand instinctively to the hilt of her katana, sensing an imminent threat.

Mitsune developed the overwhelming urge to burrow under her bed sheets and hide, preferably forever.

Many miles away, a honey-haired girl felt herself tremble from head to toe, as if someone had just stepped on her own grave.

And the Hinata-sou shook to its very foundations as a deafening scream of 'WHAT?!" echoed through its halls, sending birds roosting in its eaves fluttering madly into the snowing sky.

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Back in the living room Keitaro was desperately clinging onto the back of his adoptive sister's shirt as she sought to cause as much pain as possible to a certain few individuals.

"Kanako-chan, calm down!" The girl shook her head.

"I'm gonna give those bitches payback with interest from me!" She screeched, fighting to get free.

"Please, Kanako-chan. I've settled things with them, isn't that good enough for you?" Kanako pulled for another few moments, before relenting with obvious reluctance.

"No, it isn't really. But since you insist." She huffed, turning around to face her older brother. "But I'm telling you, one more hair on your head harmed, and god help them….."

"I know, I know. Haruka's already warned them off, but thanks for your concern." Keitaro felt himself begin to sweat as Kanako's face switched from furious to besotted in a matter of milliseconds.

"No trouble. I'd do anything for my oniisan." She purred, slinking back onto the settee and virtually perching herself on the brown-haired man's lap. "Speaking of which, is there anything my oniisan would like me to do for him now?" The girl virtually plastered herself against the man beneath her, who felt his nose beginning to haemorrhage despite himself.

"Ahh, Kanako-"

"Oh go on Keitaro, it's been ages since we've been together, let's enjoy it……" The svelte girl murmured, hoping against hope that Keitaro would finally see her advances for what they were. Little did she know that, given the person in question's history with women, understanding precisely what she was saying was a bad thing.

Every single muscle in the Kanrinin's body tensed in preparation of the flight that was about to occur.

"Ara, I hope I'm not interrupting." Mutsumi said, putting her hand to her mouth as she viewed the pair on the chair.

Keitaro let out a sigh of relief that lasted at least twenty minutes.

"Actually, well….." Kanako sputtered, caught between disappointment and annoyance. However, the girl couldn't really let it out at the Okinawan – one of the few girls she held a modicum of respect for.

"Not at all! Come and sit down!" Keitaro said semi-hysterically, with the kind of delight only the saved could muster.

"Thank you." Mutsumi took a place on the sofa next to a disgruntled Kanako. "So, Kanako-san, how long are you staying with us?"

"About a week." The girl crossly replied. "Hina-san said she wanted to check out some of the local sites, see how things had changed since she was last here."

"Is she coming here?" Keitaro asked, curious.

"I don't know. She might pop in at some point."

"I hope so, it's been a while." The Kanrinin relaxed back in the chair, more comfortable now that Kanako was now sitting beside rather than on him.

"So I've only got a week with you, oniisan." Turning to face her brother again, the dark-haired girl licked her lips. "I hope we can do lots of catching up whilst I'm here." As Kanako again snuggled a little closer than her brother was comfortable with, Mutsumi could feel her features being pulled into a most unusual expression.

A frown.

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Mitsune lay idly on her front, leafing through a magazine, not reading a word printed upon its glossy pages. The fox took a swig of whatever bottle was currently in her hand, before grimacing. Christ, it was cheap liquor. Sake that you would only use to bleach the toilet with.

Sod it. It had alcohol in it, so game on.

It did mean, however, that the girl was going to need more. The cheap stuff was the stuff that went last after all, and if there was anything cheaper than the shit she was currently guzzling, well, she didn't want to taste it.

So, she was going to need money to re-stock. And there was no point whatsoever in the silver-haired girl going through her wallet, as she knew sure as the wind was cold that there was nothing in it except a ten yen piece and a couple of moths that were getting increasingly bored.

She hadn't had any genuine luck since that day. What was it, the fourth? And what was today, the…..oh, who cared. Not a winner in weeks. Hardly the chance to place a bet, or watch the ponies. She didn't even have the chance to moan to Naru about her stretch of bad luck or the bloody weather.

It had been a good week and a bit since the girl had gone. And damn, did Mitsune miss her. The fox never realised how much she relied on her younger friend for companionship. Ever since Naru left the building Mitsune had found herself more and more isolated. Certainly, things weren't perfect with her friend by the end, although it seemed the younger girl had never recalled what had happened that night, thank god. Still, her absence left a gaping hole, one that none of the other residents were capable of filling.

Motoko had never really seen eye to eye with her, and her change of heart combined with the whole drinking business made her tricky for the fox to approach. Sure, they both kinda understood one another, but the relationship never passed that mark. Su was fun, but sometimes more than fun was needed. As for Haruka…..

Mitsune shuddered, downing another swig of liquor. Nope, not even going there right now.

Shinobu was, well, Shinobu. The girl was sweet, but had proven she could hold a grudge. The silver haired lady reasoned that she probably was the recipient of at least some of the grudge given her part in the whole tragic comedy. Mutsumi was a different matter, given the general benign outlook of the girl. However, she seemed to have appointed herself Keitaro's official supporter, especially since Shinobu started acting funny. Striking up a friendship with her would probably not be difficult, but that meant she would spend the entire time in close contact with Keitaro.

Keitaro…..

The Kanrinin was good for a few yen and a chuckle, but the fox couldn't bring herself to interact further. She felt the temptation every day, getting stronger, to try her luck. On a couple of occasions she'd even gone so far as to plan things out. Every time thus far, however, real life had taken hold. This was the recent ex of her best friend, her only true friend, in the entire world. But, as time was passing, the memories of her best friend were becoming fuzzier, and the man in front of her becoming more and more inviting.

To the point where Mitsune wasn't sure which force was winning.

The silver fox drained the last of her bottle, before discarding it carelessly and rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling. Certainly the dullest thing in the room to look at, but it was better than what was sat atop her desk. Unwillingly the woman's eyes were dragged to it, and the pile of papers scattered randomly upon it's work surface. Paper and ink. What had initially seemed a source of freedom and endless possibility had now become her jailer and life sentence. That was irony, plain and simple.

Mitsune rolled her head away, deciding instead to stare at the opposite wall. The same old bottles on the same old shelf. For some reason the drunken girl had the burning desire to smash each and every one to pieces, a temptation only vanquished by the fact that it would require effort to do so. The drowsy figure instead resolved to lay on her side with her eyes closed, very conscious of the water they contained.

A sudden thought come into Mitsune's anxious mind. If she just lay here, how long would it be until someone actually came to find her? Sure, Shinobu might pop in to see if the bedclothes need washing, or maybe Haruka when she decided to call in one of her debts. But would anyone actually come to see…..her?

The fox was disturbed from her macabre thoughts as the sound of someone leaving the room next door and heading down the corridor. Suddenly short of breath she lay perfectly still until the sound of footsteps died away.

Right. Time for action.

Mitsune hurriedly stripped herself down to her undergarments, before pausing. Looking at her full-length mirror, through a haze of alcohol-fuelled depression, the girl couldn't help but sneer. Some fox she was becoming. Eyes dark-ringed, breasts not quite filling what they once amply occupied. Hips thinner than she was used to. All topped off by a pasty, sallow skin tone. After a long sigh, the sliver-haired girl shrugged. No point in agonising, time to make do with what was available. With barely a hesitation she slipped the rest of her clothing off, and wrapped a towel around her bare frame. Prepared, she opened her door carefully and slipped through, closing it behind her. Time for the silver fox to make another appearance.

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Keitaro swept his gaze across the hot springs, for once fully relaxed in it's steaming heat. For one, the usual 'MAN PRESENT' sign was hung in pride of place across it's entrance. For two, Naru was not present, which meant that Motoko was not a threat either – the swordswoman had no act to maintain. She knew he would be there – heck, she'd asked him to be there, and would not blindly over-react like she used to even if she did enter. And for three, given the two points above, he'd allowed himself to strip down to a pair of swimming shorts. Making the whole ordeal that much more comfortable.

Even so, it was very hot.

The kanrinin swept damp hair out of his eyes, watching a few idle flakes of snow flutter from the leaden sky through myopic eyes. He had fond memories of these springs in winter, though they were hazy as his vision. Some time during childhood he'd spent happy hours here, chasing snowflakes around and marvelling at the way they vanished the moment they hit the water. Sadly, most of the clearer memories these waters held were not so pleasant.

Realising he was daydreaming, Keitaro went back to scrubbing at the nearest rock until it gleamed. Giving it a last rub, he turned his attention to another target.

And stiffened abruptly as a familiar noise entered his ears. A second of silence, then another familiar sound...

"Kei-kuuuuun." A slurred female voice echoed across the still water, followed by splashing. The kanrinin had to stifle a groan. Who else would enter the baths intentionally when he was known to be in residence?

"Yes, Kitsune-san?" The splashing grew yet closer, before it abruptly stopped. From behind him he heard a sharp intake of breath, before a finger traced his bare back. Keitaro had to stifle a twitch – it wouldn't be a good idea to let the fox know he was ticklish.

"My oh my, they really did a number on ya, din' they?" As Mitsune drew another light finger across one of the numerous marks adorning his trunk, the kanrinin couldn't help but flinch with a tiny chuckle. The finger paused, and Keitaro could almost picture the sly smile creeping onto the silver-eyed face behind him. After a few seconds, the voice returned but centimetres from his ear. "Mmmmm, Kei-kun. You never told me that little titbit of information, did ya? I reckon yer about due some punishment for tha' omission….."

"Uh, Kitsun-aaaaaah!" The kanrinin's words ended in a girlish squeal as Kitsune unleashed her long fingers on the helpless prey before her. After two seconds 'punishment' Keitaro found himself unable to breathe, after twenty he knew that death was imminent. Coughing with laughter the man took several hurried steps forwards, trying to escape the fox's grasp.

"Awwww, don't want to play any more, Kei-kun?" The girl pursuing him cooed, clearly enjoying herself. As Keitaro heard her slowly sloshing towards him the dreadful anticipation of another bout of tickle torture forced him to spin around, arms coming up in defence.

"No, please Kitsune-san, don't……" Was as far as the brown-haired man got before his mouth became oddly dry. The light-headedness which was present thanks to the steamy heat suddenly intensified tenfold, and his eyes widened to the size of dustbin lids.

Despite himself Keitaro felt his gaze dragged up and down, across gentle curves and smooth skin until it met the waterline, where thankfully the hot liquid provided some degree of censorship. The level was not high enough, however, to conceal the fact that the fox was going _au naturelle_.

The facts caught up to the man in a rush. Mitsune was naked, as in stark naked, in the springs with him. Stood only eighteen inches away, and reducing the gap by the second.

"Hey Kei-kun, like what ya see?" The purring tone did nothing to ease the man's anxiety, or to be honest, his long-suppressed libido. "'Cause if you want it, it's all here for ya, just for a little favour……." In his entire life, far as he could remember, never had a woman willingly given herself to him for inspection. Maybe in dreams, but never in the flesh. And despite the wear of recent excesses, there was no doubt that the fox was quite attractive.

Normally, there was something like an override switch which sat dormant inside Keitaro's head. One marked 'NO!' that would flip whenever something involving a naked woman occurred. One that had saved his bacon more times than he could count. One that would automatically lead to panicked flight, or unconsciousness, and prevent any further chance of 'perversion'. But on this occasion, the combined pressure of long-suppressed urges, newfound freedom and a sultry lady mercilessly stalking him proved too much.

The switch fused.

"What do you want, Kitsune-chan?" Keitaro said in a husky voice he didn't know he possessed, allowing the woman to move into contact.

"Oh, nothing much sugar. Just a li'l loan ta tide me over. Heck, if you're good, I'll even let ya off that 'til next time……" Mitsune growled, pressing herself into the man in front of her. The fox didn't know where it came from, but it was like an itch she'd forgotten she had. One that burned somewhere indescribable, one she couldn't reach, but one she _needed_ to cure.

And somehow, slowly crushing herself against Keitaro, she automatically knew how it would be satisfied.

"Mmmmm, Kitsune……" Feeling a bare thigh rubbing against his own, the brown-haired man let the last of his self control ebb away. "Whatever you want, I don't care……"

"I'm all yours, Kei-kun." The fox's eyes almost rolled back in her head as hungry hands slid tenderly across her moist skin, lips sensing Keitaro leaning in for a kiss……

"Wha-hey! Get the hell away from my Kei-kun, you hussy!" Kanako exploded into the springs dressed in a tiny towel, fury in her eyes. The pair sprang apart in shock, Keitaro ending up on his backside in the water whilst Mitsune clutched at her heart, sight slowly coming back into focus. As Kanako sloshed her furious way across the springs the other two stared at one another, shock making its presence felt at what had happened, what they almost did.

Keitaro blinked first.

"Ah, um……" For once an apology was not on the tip of his tongue, nor even in the back of his throat. He was struck dumb, plain and simple.

"Uh, yeah……" Mitsune murmured back, equally shocked. Reality began filtering back into the fox's mind, and she almost gagged. Not at the thought of what she was about to do, but at what the events of the last few minutes made her appear to be.

"I told you to get away from him!" Kanako pulled one arm back for a slap, one that jerked to a halt as her half-brother caught it.

"Leave her alone, Kanako-chan." The girl balked at the command, still beyond fuming.

"No! She's going to get what's coming to her!" She opened her free hand, planning to punish Mitsune no matter what. Firm fingers grasped it, and held it tightly.

"I. Said. No." Keitaro stated in a tone which left no room for disagreement. Kanako instantly deflated, unsure why her brother was holding her back but unwilling to disobey.

"Keitaro, I……" Mitsune trailed off, suddenly unable to meet the soft brown-eyed gaze the man rested upon her. It came as no surprise that the world rapidly became blurry to her, as she felt hot tears burning down her face.

"Kitsune-chan." The obvious care in Keitaro's voice proved too much for her to bear, and in an instant she fled the springs. Nearly knocking Shinobu over as she came in.

"Kitsune-san, are you-" The sound of a door slamming made asking the rest of the question irrelevant. Shinobu blinked violet eyes slowly, before deciding to carry on regardless. "Keitaro, I know you're in here, but do you mind if I-" And for the second time in seconds the question died unsaid on the young chef's lips as her gaze took in her Sempai stood topless behind his scantily clad sister, holding both of her arms securely in what looked like some bizarre ballet pose. "I'll come back if this is a bad time……"

"No, Shinobu. No need to go anywhere." Keitaro dropped the captive arms, and took a step away from his sister.

"What are you doing in here, dressed only in a towel, knowing my Keitaro-kun was busy washing the place?" Kanako demanded, hands on hips. A month ago, Shinobu would have fled, face red. Not now.

"I could ask the same. Only you seem to have left the towel behind and only brought a flannel." The younger girl bit back, assuming the same position.

"I'm his sister. I'm allowed."

"You're not here as his sister, you're here to try and seduce him!" Kanako and Keitaro were both caught by surprise as the purple-haired girl cut right to the chase.

"Well. Well!" Kanako could only stutter, casting glances at her brother. To deny it would seem to prove she was only his sister, nothing more. But to agree would, possibly, sound even worse.

"Besides, I'm not here to try and have my way with him. I'm here to talk." Shinobu concluded, voice dropping down a few notches, eyes shifting away to stare at a newly polished rock.

"Talk? Yeah, right." Kanako snorted derisively, looking over at Keitaro. Who, to her concern, seemed to be studying the violet haired girl carefully.

"Okay, Shinobu."

"Wha?" The brown-haired man turned to his sister, and sent her a pleading look.

"Would you be kind enough to give us some privacy?" Kanako huffed, but knew she couldn't disobey her oniisan. Instead she settled for petulantly splashing over towards the exit, and throwing the door open irritably. Nearly knocking Mutsumi over in the process.

"Ara, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt something? The Okinawan placed a palm on her left cheek, looking concerned. A grumbling Kanako stormed past her, not even bothering to change, before leaving the room with stamping feet. Mutsumi blinked slowly at the retreating figure, before a look into the springs told her that she was too late to spend any quality time with the object of her affections.

"Mutsumi….." The gentle lady nodded slowly, her usual cheery smile present.

"I understand. I'll come back later." As the door slid shut, Shinobu looked at Keitaro in puzzlement as he took a deep breath. A moment's pause followed, then a shout echoed through the Hinata-sou.

"Anyone else?!"

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A red-faced Motoko Aoyama spun on her heel just outside the spring's entrance, deciding this was not the time to engage Keitaro in discussion about the benefits of meditation.

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Satisfied, Keitaro returned his attention to the girl in front of him, who was knelt in a style that probably went out with the feudal era.

"Yes, Shinobu?" The purple-haired chef's heart gave a little flutter as the man addressed her informally, giving herself added hope.

"Kei, I'd like to talk." Keitaro smiled.

"What about?" Shinobu peered up at him with a mixture of desperation and desire in her violet orbs, and the Kanrinin suddenly knew the subject before the girl's mouth opened.

"I'd like to talk about……us……"

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Please don't kill me. I didn't put in a real cliffie last chapter, felt like I needed to make up for it.

So how will it turn out? I have no idea myself, but when I find out I'll let you know!

'Til next time.

Nodoka Miyazawa


	11. Chapter 11

Hi there, Nodoka's finally back!

Extra week on this posting…..sometimes real life is a real pain in the proverbial. I reckon there's about another 5 or 6 chapters left in this one, maybe more…..see how it goes.

Hope that I don't bore too many people in the meantime!

Anyways, chapter 11. The second scene was really hard to write for me, I wanted to make sure it came out right, and had to re-start from scratch several times. In the end, well, that's up for the readers to decide…..

Big thanks to all the reviewers, as always. Reviews really make my day, and I love receiving any feedback that might improve my writing skills so please keep them coming!

Well, since I've kept everyone waiting long enough, I'm going to get on with things.

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Repercussions – Chapter 11

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Mutsumi strolled in her usual leisurely manner into the living room, appearing not in the least bit flustered. However, a person with above average perception would have noticed that this wasn't quite the case. The twitching fingers, the slightly manic edge to a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Or even her top lip.

The Okinawan couldn't define just how hard it was to leave the spring only moments ago.

Everything in Shinobu's posture, in Keitaro's tone, suggested that cards were about to be laid on the table. She recognised it without needing to be told, felt it as a bird feels the dawn approaches before even a flicker of sunlight illuminates the night sky. The selfish side of her mind was presently screaming at her to get back into the spring, to break up whatever was going on.

It never had a chance of being heard.

The mahogany eyed girl drew her green coat more tightly around her shoulders as a particularly bitter draft swept through the room, raising goose pimples on the bare ankles exposed beneath her long green skirt. Taking a seat on the battered old sofa, Mutsumi drew her cold feet up and stared blankly at the flickering television placed before it. Unprompted, the girl's mind flitted back to the springs and whatever may be going on in there.

Who knows. Maybe right at this moment, Keitaro was explaining to Shinobu how he loved her too. Maybe their faces were inching together, lips meeting, tongues intertwining, eyes closing as the pleasure swept them away…..

Mutsumi bit her lip, willing the image to go away. Yet leave it would not, as the Okinawan's frantic mind played a thousand and one versions of the same situation, all with different dialogue but the same result.

Keitaro leaving her alone again.

Anyone else would have cast aside any guilt and charged back up to the hot springs, determined to stop any words being said. Mutsumi however willed her eyes to focus on the television, on the clock, anything but their internal vision. She would not allow herself to do anything, couldn't allow herself to. Shinobu had earned the right to voice her thoughts, and Keitaro had the right to give his honest answer without coercion. If it did not happen now it would only take place at some other point in the future.

And if Keitaro were to say yes……

If he were to say yes, Mutsumi would support them all the way. She had done it before, and would again should she have to.

Even though it would kill her to do so.

The brown-haired girl placed her head gently into her hands, sighing deeply. It wasn't as hard the first time. Then, she had innately understood the man she was fond of loved someone else. And, as she had never really had a chance against Naru, giving up was easier. Not simple by any means, but achievable.

This time, however, she'd had a chance. Keitaro had been freed, and the opportunity had been there. But, same as always, her refusal to actually pursue the man seemed to have cost her dearly. She'd been the support, the friend, the soft shoulder, which was what she seemed doomed to be from now until eternity.

The girl's imagination savagely mocked her, showering her with an endless sequence of weddings, involving every other resident of the Hinata-sou. The one constant in each image was the presence of a dark-haired Okinawan, carrying the bridal train. Always the bridesmaid……

Yet, despite it all, Mutsumi refused to even consider interfering. She just…..couldn't.

So, she sat and watched the clock. And waited.

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"Us?" Keitaro murmured, feeling a few more beads of sweat appear on his brow.

"Yes, _us_ Keitaro." Shinobu replied, eyes bright and gleaming. It didn't seem to register in the girl's mind that her hair was slowly being coated with snow. Her attention was fixed solely on her 'beloved', who at present really wished he hadn't sent Kanako from the springs.

"Well, what do you mean us?" The man hedged, knowing it was futile. He didn't want to say what he had come to understand as the truth. He didn't want to watch the reaction of the young girl in front of him.

"I mean me and you. As in a couple. I have to know, Keitaro. Do I have a chance?" Examining Shinobu as she peered up at him, through purple tinted orbs that were ever so slightly too moist, Keitaro realised the girl already knew his answer. And she deserved to hear it from him directly.

"……No. I'm sorry Shinobu, but I don't see you like that." Keitaro's voice almost broke as he saw the purple-haired girl's bottom lip tremble for just a second. Only a brief moment, but it was enough to make the smile that followed transparent as the spring's water.

"I see." The girl got up from her uncomfortable kneeling position, stretching slightly and drawing her wet towel more protectively around her small frame. "Well, I'm going then. I'll see you later." Shinobu turned towards the exit, trying and failing to appear unhurried.

A gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Please don't leave like this." The purple haired girl didn't respond to the hushed voice behind her, but didn't move either as the hand released her. "I….you're…..just so precious to me. I don't want you to go out not knowing that."

"Then why can't you love me back?" Came the reply, just as hushed.

"Because you're like a little sister to me. It just wouldn't seem right….." Shinobu cackled dryly, a caustic sound bereft of humour.

"Little old Shinobu. I've always been the child of the Hinata-sou." The purple eyes closed, fingers curling into fists. "I tried, Keitaro. I really tried. I knew it was pointless, ever since you told me I was 'so young' – do you have any idea how it feels to have an admission of love batted back in your face like that?" A brief pause was followed by a snort from the diminutive girl, still resolutely stood with her back to the Kanrinin. "Well yes, I suppose you do. Then maybe you'll understand why I can't look at you right now."

"Shinobu……" The violet-haired figure took a deep, choking breath as the distraught tone of the man behind her barely crept into her ears.

"I did anything I could think of to seem older. Took advice, dressed the part, even changed my way of speaking. But no matter what, you never saw me that way. I was still the scared little girl you first met." Another shuddering breath followed, as the girl held onto her composure with desperate hands.

"It's just - I can't see us together like that. I care for you as much as anyone, just not in that way." The hollow tone irked the girl no end. Surely she was the only one that was allowed to sound heartbroken at this moment in time. Unable to keep her emotions under control any longer she rounded on the man, fully intent on giving him the full force of her despair.

And stopped dead as her eyes took in the mess that was her 'Sempai'.

He looked exactly like she felt.

Suddenly the truth hit Shinobu like a tonne of bricks. Her dream was over, just like his was. He understood what she was experiencing; it was precisely the same hell he was living in right now.

"I'm so sorry Shinobu. It's still too soon. I can't see anyone like that, not just yet." As Keitaro broke off, the violet-haired girl saw a hint of anguish in the man's face. Anguish that he was the source of her heartbreak, irrespective that he was only being honest.

The sight of a few ripples in the pool beneath the Kanrinin drove Shinobu over the edge.

"Keitaro!" The Kanrinin raised his head in time to see a tearful girl hurtle into him, wrapping slim arms tightly around his bare torso. For a long moment the pair stood in total silence, cloaked in the steam of the springs, as ghostly flakes of snow drifted down around them.

Then, ever so quietly, a soft soprano voice began to sob.

Keitaro put his own arms around the small shoulders of the crying girl and drew her to his chest. Letting Shinobu get her feelings off her chest, the man rested his face in her snow-laden hair and allowed a little of his own sadness slip out. He loved Shinobu, and cursed himself for putting her in this state. But it just wouldn't work, not now. He wanted to protect her and care for her, but that was far as it went in the ex-ronin's mind.

"I already guessed what you would say." Sniffled Shinobu, head still pressed into Keitaro's chest. "I knew before I even opened my mouth. But I had to hear it, otherwise I'd just keep wondering."

"I know I've said it too many times, but I still can't say it enough. I'm sor-" The brown-haired man was cut off by a hand over his mouth.

"You don't need to be." Shinobu pulled away slightly, letting her watery eyes meet Keitaro's. "It's not something you can help." She sighed, voice growing dejected. "I'm just a girl, not a lady. Seems Haruka was right, growing up won't happen overnight….."

"I guess so. It's something best done over time." Keitaro squeezed the girl's shoulder, voice dropping to a soft murmur. "Just……even when you're 'growing up', don't stop being Shinobu, okay? I want Shinobu in my life, no matter what." The pair of gazes met for several seconds, understanding passing between them. Then, carefully, the diminutive girl leaned up and placed a peck on Keitaro's cheek.

"I'll try my best, Keitaro." Shinobu whispered, a tiny smile on her face.

"I know you will." Came the tenderly spoken reply. A moment of silence, and the girl took a step back, smile growing broad.

"And hey, I'm twenty in three years. If you're not married by then, I want first refusal! A lot can change in three years….." Keitaro weighed the expression of the girl in front of him, before breaking into a smile himself. She was serious, and she was right. Who knows what would happen in the next three years? Especially considering the last three years…..

"Okay, you've got it." Shinobu laughed, with a hint of her cheery tone of old.

"You know I'm going to hold you to that, Kei." The girl turned around, and began splashing her way towards the exit. "Oh, and you might want to order take out tonight, I don't really feel like cooking." She called over her shoulder before briskly climbing out of the springs and leaving through the sliding door.

Keitaro sank slowly into the springs until only his nose and eyes were visible, which were closed. Letting Shinobu down was even harder than he'd expected, but at least he'd been honest.

And you never know. Shinobu aged twenty might end up being someone more than a little sister……Although the man secretly hoped, as he let the rest of his head sink beneath the still waters, that he wouldn't have to wait that long to fall in love again.

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Dinner that evening was a quiet affair. Seta had apparently decided that he should stay for classes despite the snow, and hence the professor and his unofficial daughter were absent. Mitsune's absence was completely expected – given that those in attendance had seen the state of the fox earlier that day, at least in passing.

Shinobu's absence, on the other hand, did not go un-remarked.

"So where is she?" Kanako asked, petitely shovelling noodles into her mouth.

"Urashima-san, 'she' has a name." Motoko gently corrected, frowning. The black-haired Urashima seemed to consider the residents of the Hinata-sou as unimportant, rarely addressing any of them with more than bored formality. Although unsurprising, given the history between the girl and some of the residents, it was still something that irked the kendoist. And, judging by the look on his face, Keitaro too.

"Yeah, Shinobu then. Anyone seen her?" The other two women shook their heads (Su being a little distracted by her plateful of food) whilst Kanako's older brother just stared at his dinner.

"I believe she's in her room." He eventually said quietly, poking at his ramen with little interest.

"Right." A few seconds of quiet followed, before the younger Urashima asked the inevitable question. "So, what was she doing, going into the hot spring with you?" An expectant pause followed, one which was just begging for someone to scream 'pervert!' into it. Once the moment passed, everyone's attention re-focussed on the man at the table, who wondered if it would have been better to be Naru-punched out of this conversation.

"I'm afraid that it's personal. I suggest you ask her about it." A hand shot out and Keitaro grasped his sister as she was poised to do just that. "But not now. Or this month, to be honest." Kanako briefly glared as her brother before grudgingly re-taking her seat. Anyone else's words she would have ignored, but the girl couldn't blow off Keitaro so easily.

"Ara, is poor Shinobu alright?" Mutsumi asked, putting a palm to her mouth and leaning forward in her chair.

"Yes…..yes. She just would like a little space." The Okinawan sagged back, feeling faint with relief. When the purple-haired chef had not appeared at the table, she had begun to consider the possibility Shinobu's feelings were not returned by the Kanrinin. And that was the confirmation she needed……

"Mutsumi-chan, are you okay?" As she came around to concerned faces, Mutsumi couldn't help but feel a little delight. Delight of the guiltiest kind, but delight all the same that she still had a chance.

"Now now Mutsumi-san. Please do not let worries for the youngest of our household gain too strong a grip upon you. Shinobu would not want that." Motoko stated blandly, all the while shooting the mahogany-haired girl a look. One that told her the resident swordswoman had picked up on the same fact she had.

"Ara, I apologise for making you worry." Mutsumi picked up a stray take-away menu and began fanning herself with it, trying to settle the thumping in her chest.

"It's no problem, Mutsumi." Keitaro calmly stated, placing a reassuring hand on the Okinawan's shoulder.

"Thank you, Kei." The pair were suddenly aware that they were the centre of attention, at least from Motoko and Kanako.

"Mutsumi-san, Keitaro-san…..Is it possible that the pair of you are closer than you let on?" The raven-haired girl mused aloud, fingers tapping on the table-top.

"Ara, well…..we decided we'd known each other for so long there was no point in being so formal any more." Mutsumi explained hurriedly, Keitaro nodding rapidly alongside her.

"Very well." Motoko broke into a demure smile, although the hands that had slipped beneath the table gripped tightly onto her royal blue kimono. "Then, may I be so bold as to address you in the same manner, Keitaro-san?"

"Most certainly, Motoko-san. Or maybe just Motoko." The kendoist's smile grew, much to the chagrin of the other Urashima at the table.

"Hey kendo-girl, sorry to break up the happy party but I've got something to say to you." Kanako pointed a slim finger, voice raising. "If you ever lay a hand on him again-"

"You can stop right there, Urashima-san." Motoko interjected, face and voice suddenly frosty. "If you wish to warn me away from violence towards Keitaro, there is no need. My vow as a martial artist is binding and absolute, surely even someone such as yourself can accept that." Kanako bristled, partially at the cold tone, but mostly at the poorly veiled insult.

"Listen to me Aoyama-san, and listen good. I didn't trust you when we first met, and I don't trust you now. The vow is only as reliable as the person making it, so please don't be surprised when I give it little credibility." A pin-drop silence followed this statement, one that was punctuated by a collective intake of breath as Motoko slowly stood to all of her near six-foot height, a sight menacing as a tiger coiled and prepared to pounce. The ebony-haired girl carefully lay her left hand upon the Hina blade, fingers curling and eyes narrowed in preparation.

"I suggest most sincerely you retract that last statement, Urashima-san." Motoko's tone had sunk from frosty to simply Arctic, as she stared down the aggressive woman opposite. "For if you do not, I will be forced to punish you for the stain you have made upon my honour. My vow of penance only holds true to one man, not to his obstinate relatives. Now, do you retract your words, or must you insist on discovering why I am the heir to the world-renowned Shinmei-ryu?" Su and Mutsumi shivered at the sudden drop in temperature as Motoko's aura flared into life, coating the edge of vision with an ethereal blue tinge.

"Apologise?!" Kanako sneered, trying to ignore the way her toes curled at the imposing sight before her. The girl knew she was good, but on this occasion may have bitten off more than she could chew. All the same, pride wouldn't allow her to concede. "Not a chance. Bring it on."

"As you wish. In future, when you recall your greatest mistake, do not forget I offered you the opportunity to avoid making it……" Motoko seemed to blur into nothingness as her quiet words floated across the table and Kanako tensed, preparing for the assault.

When it came, the girl knew she could never be ready enough.

Three blows piled into her left side before she even knew the swordswoman was there. They were enough to send her skidding across the room, badly winded. As Kanako sank to her haunches, desperately trying to regain some breath, it suddenly occurred to her that maybe she shouldn't have pulled on the tail of a tiger with such recklessness. The heir to the Shinmei-ryu was much stronger than when they had last met, without doubt.

"I know you feel you are a worthy opponent. Yet I sense that, perhaps, you are slowly beginning to understand the gravity of your mistake." Motoko said slowly, stalking across the room with precise menace, olive eyes fixed on her adversary. "If you do not concede, I will be forced to draw my sword. At which point, I will feel bound to use it……" The icily calm voice sent shudders down the spines of those present, especially the young lady stood back-to-the-wall before her.

Kanako weighed up her options. She could take on the swordswoman, and in all likelihood, end up in twenty-seven pieces. Or she could back down.

Kanako never backed down to anyone who wasn't family.

"Go to hell, Aoyama." The black-haired girl furiously stated, falling into a 'ready' position. Motoko sighed gently, eyes closing briefly.

"As you wish, Urashima." The kendoist casually laid a hand on the hilt of the Hina blade, and the silken whisper of sliding steel began to ring through the silent room.

And halted suddenly as another hand held hers in place.

"Please don't, Motoko." The swordswoman's gaze shifted up the tanned arm in the corner of her vision, and then moved further up until the face of Koalla Su came into view. The young Molmolian was stood with an uncharacteristically sober expression, much like the one she had worn when she had gone to Motoko the night Naru put her fist through the wall. "I don't want any more fighting, there's been too much already….." Looking into Su's eyes, Motoko knew that the diminutive princess had well and truly had enough. With a sigh, she released her sword and dropped her hand to her side.

And reflexively flashed it up again to block a flying kick that would have taken both herself and Su out had it connected.

Kanako landed several feet away, only to stumble backwards as Motoko's aura flared into life again. Only this time, it wasn't chilling and intimidating. It was furious, scorching and destructive. The younger Urashima suddenly felt fear she had never experienced before as her sixth sense informed her she had probably just done the stupidest thing she ever would do.

"Urashima." The swordswoman growled, eyes seeming to glow red. "To involve me in your petty vendettas is reckless. To involve my friends……is suicide." With Su's opposition now gone the Hina blade was drawn in a flash, and wielded with intent. "When you arrive in the next life, please do well to learn from the wrongs you have done in this one." Kanako swallowed hard, summoning up all her skill in the vain hope that she could somehow defeat her opponent.

"Stop." The two women paused as a calm voice cut through the air, one that drew the attention of everyone instantly. A short figure stood in the doorway, one with hands on hips and an expression of anger on her face. Keitaro gasped as his grandmother stepped across the threshold, shaking snow from her cloaked shoulders.

"Hina-san!" Mutsumi murmured, brown eyes wide.

"Yes dear, it's me." The aged lady favoured the pair sat at the table with a nod, before returning her attention to the stand-off before her. "Now, Motoko-san, I would like you to put your weapon away." The swordswoman stared at her adversary for several seconds more, before replying in a quiet tone.

"With all respect, Hina-san, I am reluctant to do so whilst your granddaughter is in my presence."

"I will guarantee her deference. Now, please re-sheath your weapon." After a few moments, Motoko grudgingly complied. Relaxing from her battle-ready stance she cast a glance at her kanrinin, and felt her heart sink at the hint of fear clearly visible on his face.

"Hina-san, she-" Kanako began, only to have her pleas waved away.

"I do not need to hear it. I've seen enough already, enough to know that you are very fortunate I arrived when I did. In any case, Kanako-chan, you will be returning to my hotel with me tonight."

"Wha?" Kanako gaped, stunned. "But why? I want to stay here with oniisan. You can't make me leave."

"I believe I can. But even if I couldn't….." The elderly lady turned to face Keitaro, who was still sat statuesque at the table. "Keitaro-kun. Do you feel that Kanako could stay here without disrupting the harmony of the inn?" Keitaro audibly swallowed as attention shifted to him, before resolutely squaring his shoulders.

"Kanako-chan. Will you apologise to Motoko for what you said?" The black-haired girl huffed, arms folding.

"No! I'm not going to take back the truth." The siblings eyed each other for a second, before Keitaro dropped his gaze with a sigh.

"Okay." The young man faced his grandmother, but continued to address his sister. "In that case, Kanako-san, I must respectfully request that you accompany Hina**-**san back to her hotel tonight. You will not be permitted to stay here."

The silence that followed was palpable. Until the inevitable explosion.

"WHAT?!" Kanako howled, storming towards the table. "How the hell can you defend that murderous bitch oniisan?! How can you choose her over me?" Grandma Hina lay a hand on the girl's shoulder, one that was ignored.

"Now Kanako-chan, don't make a scene. It won't change anything."

"But, you don't know! You don't know what that-that evil woman has done to him! He's lucky to be sat here right now, and she's had everything to do with it." The elderly lady shook her head slightly, eyes calm.

"Kanako-chan, what makes you think I didn't know? Haruka has been keeping me fully informed of goings on." The Hina matriarch ignored several surprised looks as she turned her attention to the swordswoman. "So, Motoko-san, I trust you are fulfilling your vow?"

"I would rather perform seppuku than do otherwise." The olive-eyed lady bowed her head reverently. "And as you are here, I wish to express in person my deepest regrets at my earlier actions."

"Apology accepted, Motoko-san. Your sister would be proud to see how far you have progressed." Smiling faintly at the praise Motoko straightened again, pointedly ignoring the poisonous look Kanako sent her way.

"Uh, Grandma, why are you staying in a hotel?" Keitaro asked, curious. "There's always room for you here."

"Well, Keitaro-kun, this old lady made a promise to herself - that the next time she returned to stay at the Hinata-sou would be when she was staying for good." Hina gave her grandson a wry smile. "There's far too much life in these bones for me to settle down just yet."

"Amen!" Su cheered, bouncing onto Motoko's shoulders. "Hey, what do ya say that we all go have a bath? I haven't seen ya for aaaaaaaages!"

"Ah. On to the real reason for my visit." Grandma Hina chuckled to herself, easing a bag from her shoulder. "I've been to six continents, but still find a place for the springs in my top ten places to just relax. It's been far too long." The slightly wizened lady looked at the assembled company with a raised eyebrow. Kanako will be joining me of course, but does anyone else fancy a dip?"

"Count me in!" The tiny Molmolian sprang from her perch and shot up the stairs, clearly intent on being first in.

"Ara, I may join you myself." Mutsumi eased herself up from her seat, obviously not in a rush like Su. "I will see you there in a few minutes.

"Fine." Hina glanced at the swordswoman still stood beside the table. "Motoko-san?"

"I-I feel I must decline." No-one missed the way the olive eyes flickered to Kanako. "It would be wisest for all involved at this moment in time."

"Very well." The grey-haired lady looked over at her grandson, and her mouth twisted into a sly smile. "And I suppose there is no point in inviting you, Keitaro-kun?" The aforementioned man, who by this point was barely listening, choked on his tea.

"Urp-" Amused looks centred on Keitaro whilst Mutsumi gingerly patted his back. Once he had managed to remove what seemed like half a gallon of fluid from his lungs, he turned wide eyes on his grandmother. "Hina-san!" Hina took in the flushed cheeks with twinkling eyes.

"Ah, some things never change."

"Just for that, one day I'm going to say yes." Keitaro muttered darkly, embarrassed.

The others in the room, for varying reasons, decided they wouldn't mind if he had.

"Well, if I can't convince you otherwise……" Hina shrugged idly, before strolling off towards the springs, a fuming Kanako in tow.

"Ara, I think a long soak is what I need." Mutsumi stated, stretching her arms above her head. Her usual smile grew just a little broader as she caught Keitaro almost unwittingly take in the display, before his blush became noticeably deeper and he hurriedly turned his attention to the table-top.

"See you later, Mutsumi." The kanrinin called as the Okinawan made her sedate way to her room. It was only after several seconds that Keitaro realised that the other person in the room hadn't moved. "Motoko-sa….Motoko, is something wrong?" The swordswoman gave him an odd look, before sinking into the chair opposite.

"Well…..last week I made a promise to Haruka. One that stated I would not draw my sword unless in self-defence. But today I drew the Hina blade, against another member of the Urashima family of all things." Motoko's fingers fiddled with the sleeve of her kimono, whilst worried eyes scanned the room for things unknown. "I fear that Haruka may not take well to that fact……" The anxious hand was suddenly stilled by gentle pressure from another.

"You did so in self-defence, and in defence of Su." Keitaro stated calmly, his palm stilling Motoko's fingers. "What Kanako tried to do was inexcusable. Sister or not, saying and doing what she did…..I can't ignore that. If Haruka has a problem, she'll have to take it up with me."

"Keitaro….." The heir to the Shinmei-ryu felt her heart lift, and she grasped the reassuring hand firmly. "You truly are a good man. I would never wish to be bound to anyone but you." She murmured, wanting nothing more that to kiss the man opposite. To kiss a man, of all things! The internal war between traditional and modern Motoko was interrupted, however, by the sound of a phone ringing.

"Ah. Give me a moment, I'll get that." As the black-haired woman gave a breath of relief that she didn't have to make her mind up just yet, Keitaro lifted up the receiver and held it to his ear. "Hello?"

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A honey-haired girl sat on the edge of a blue sofa, fingertips of her still plastered hand batting at the coiled cable of the phone she held in her hands. It had been a long week and a half since she had left. A lot had taken place, much of it not entirely pleasant or comfortable. All the same, things were starting to sort themselves out.

Which was why Naru felt ready to call the Hinata-sou.

As she listened to the 'ringing' tone, the girl contemplated what could have happened whilst she'd been away. Not much surely, it hadn't been _that_ long.

"_**Hello**_?" Naru almost dropped the phone as a very familiar voice reached her ears. Hurriedly fumbling it back into its normal position, she found her voice had suddenly gone on holiday to Jamaica. "_**Hello**_**?"** As the voice came again, in a tone that suggested it was about to give up, the dry-mouthed girl managed to make something that could be described as a noise. One normally made by the victim of a fatal stabbing, but a noise all the same. After some frantic throat clearing and a moment to try and moisten her lips, Naru tried again.

"Keitaro-san?"

"_**Naru-san**__!" _The honey-eyed girl noted with relief that the man sounded happy to hear from her. Any awkwardness she'd been anticipating dissolved instantly, and a genuine smile broke out on Naru's face. "_**It's been a while. How have things been?**_**"**

"Tricky, but okay. It looks like those teachers I mentioned tried it on a few times too many. They both got struck off, and registered on databases they wouldn't want to be on." Naru snorted dryly, cheered at the fact the man had got what they deserved.

"_**And the others**_**?"** There was a pause, followed by a sigh.

"Well, my cousin was devastated, says he was young and stupid, and offered to admit it to the family and accept the consequences." Naru unconsciously winced, remembering the difficult conversation. "He really meant it too; I could see it in his face. I couldn't continue holding it against him; the memory seems to hurt him more than it does me."

"_**I'm guessing it's not all been that easy**_" If Naru could have clenched her fists, she would have.

"Well, no. My uncle flat out denied he'd ever done such a thing." The girl tilted her head to hold the phone between ear and shoulder, pinching the bridge of her nose with her now free left hand. "I'm starting to wonder if he's right, maybe I did read too much into things..."

"_**Naru, you know that's not true. Even if he won't admit it, at least make sure he knows you're not going to let him off the hook**__."_ At the certainty in her ex-boyfriend's voice Naru couldn't help but smile. Trust Keitaro to see things in black and white. All the same, the support was gratefully received.

"Thanks, Kei-kun." The honey-haired girl cast a quick look around to make sure there was still no-one in earshot. It wouldn't do for one of her parents to catch wind of the subject – she wasn't sure how they would react, but badly was a pretty hot certainty. "So, how are things at your end?"

"_**Uh, well, fine really**__." _Naru frowned slightly.

"Kei-kun, if you're going to try lying, please do a better job of it." A sheepish laugh was the reply, and the curious girl was suddenly struck with the image of the brown-haired man at the other end of the line grinning winsomely whilst scratching the back of his head. A wave of nostalgia washed over her, and she ground her teeth together whilst blinking rapidly.

"_**Sorry Naru-san. I think the best way to put it would be...interesting**__."_

"Interesting." Naru deadpanned. "Interesting like a good book or interesting like a car crash?" The girl could almost hear Keitaro sweating.

"_**Well, a little bit of both**_"

"Details, please." A long pause followed, before the voice at the other end began hesitantly.

"_**Uh, well, Sara is moving in. Seta too, although he's living down with Haruka**__." _Naru blinked slowly, before smiling. With Sara in the Hinata-sou, she imagined that Keitaro would have even less peace than he used to.

"It'll be good to have them around." The girl blink-blinked for a second. "Nice try Kei-kun, but I'm not going to believe that's everything."

"_**Hmmmmm. Kanako is here. Or maybe**__**was**__." _After a moment of puzzlement Naru was glad to receive an abridged summary of events, ones that made her wish she was present to see the insufferable younger Urashima get what she deserved. After that the conversation seemed to drift on for a while, Naru unobtrusively fishing for more details and Keitaro clumsily avoiding her enquiries, until the frustrated girl decided she'd talk to someone who might actually tell her something.

"Kei-kun, could you put Kitsune on?" Another pause followed, possibly the most uncomfortable of the lot so far. Then...

"_**I think Kitsune is out at the moment. I'll, uh, tell her you called**__."_ After several years in the Kanrinin's presence, Naru could spot a lie easily enough. It wasn't even a convincing attempt. For a few seconds the girl considered tearing into the man at the other end of the line, but eventually held herself back. _No more lashing out, Naru. Keep on doing it and all of this is a waste of time. Instead of accusing, just ask._

"Kei-kun, I know you're not telling me something. And since it's about my best friend, I'd like you to tell me." The reply, for several moments, was silence.

"_**Yeah, you're right. Kitsune is, shall we say, hammered. The whole time too, she's barely been sober for a week." **_Concern blossomed in Naru's chest at the worried tone Keitaro spoke with. There must be more to it than that – the fox-lady had spent more nights intoxicated than the honey-eyed girl cared to remember. For the man to be so concerned…. _**"I think it's starting to take it's toll on her…..she approached me in the springs this afternoon….." **_

"In the springs?" Naru couldn't stop suspicion creeping into her voice as long-honed reactions came into play. "You didn't do anything…..perverted to her?" The young woman cursed mentally as the inevitable word slipped out unbidden. _Way to go, girl. Straight back on form as usual._

"_**Well, um, no."**_ Thankfully, Keitaro's uncertainty went unnoticed as Naru gave herself a thorough chastening for slipping back into old habits. _**"But she was going all-out just to try and hawk some money from me. I don't know why she's getting so, uh, desperate I guess." **_

"What did she do?" When a reply was unforthcoming, honey eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I asked what she did, Kei-kun."

"_**I'd rather not tell you, Naru-san. All I'll say is it was a bit excessive.**_"

"Kei-kun, tell me." Silence. Naru sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Look, I'm not going to fly off the handle, or try to kill you. I'm not asking if you're being unfaithful…..you haven't got anyone to be faithful to any more….." The girl swallowed hard, realising how hard it was to admit it aloud. After regaining some composure she continued. "I'm just asking because she's my best friend and I'm worried about her."

"_**Okay." **_A deep breath came down the phone, and the fingers clutching it tightened their grip in apprehension. "_**She….came into the springs deliberately while I was cleaning it. Naked. Not even wearing a smile."**_

"Guh……" Naru didn't notice the plastic coating of the phone beginning to crack in her grip, or the choked grunt that escaped her lips. Shock settled on her features as the man at the other end of the phone line continued.

"_**She tried to talk me into giving her a loan, and offered herself as payment…..And when I say offered, I mean offered her, well….." **_A sudden 'snap' awakened Naru from her stupor and she blinked stupidly at the now fractured receiver in her grasp. She paid it little attention however, as her mind span with the information it had just received. Sure, they weren't together any more, but for the fox to do something so brazen so soon, it smacked of desperation.

And of betrayal.

The girl hated to admit it, but it really stung to hear that another woman, her own best friend no less, had tried to move in on her until-recently-boyfriend so soon. In all the years she'd known Mitsune, she'd never known the fox to actively move in on someone she liked, or even someone she'd liked in the past. And even though they weren't together at present, Mitsune sure as hell knew how she still felt for Keitaro. Suddenly, a hazy voice drifted into her mind, the slightly slurred alto of the fox-lady herself.

"…_..That's how I feel every damn night. That's how bein' alone feels. Like part of you is broken, and someone just keeps on squeezin' it. Tighter and tighter……" _

"_**Naru-san? You okay?"**_Brought back to the present, Naru took some deep breaths.

"Yeah Kei-kun, I'm fine." The girl murmured, whilst wondering where the hell that snippet of memory came from.

"_**I'm afraid I've got to go. Haruka's just arrived and I'll have to tell her what's been happening."**_

"Oh, okay. Make sure you keep an eye on Kitsune for me, I have to finish things here. Then I'll be back soon as I can." Naru said quickly, before finishing with a much softer tone of voice. "And…..take care of yourself, okay Kei-kun?"

"_**You too, Naru-san."**_ Came the reply, equally soft, before the line went dead. The honey-eyed girl listened to the disconnected tone blankly for several seconds, before carefully replacing the receiver on its stand.

Then, she stared into space. And tried to put even more pieces into what was becoming an overcrowded picture.

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No-one had called.

She hadn't really expected anyone to. After all, every resident of the Hinata-sou barring Sara had witnessed her semi-hysterical flight from the hot springs. Following that, she wasn't surprised she was being given some space.

As she lay on her back, fiddling with the lacy edges of her white nightgown, the fox didn't know if it made her happy or sad.

She shuddered as the last bottle of sake made its way to her lips, remembering yet again why she had left this particular specimen on the shelf for so long. It was like drinking liquid razors spiked with gastric acid. But it was all she had left, and the vain hope that it might blank out the memory of her performance an hour ago gave her no choice.

So far, the drink was failing spectacularly in its purpose.

No matter how many poisonous mouthfuls slipped grudgingly down, the truth of what she'd done was ringing endlessly in her ears.

Cut it however you wanted, she had offered herself to Keitaro in return for cash. Frank and explicit. It wasn't teasing or flirting any more, it wasn't even coercion. She'd given up her body for money.

Which made her a prostitute.

A whore.

And, god damn it, she would have gone through with it. She would go through with it now, awful as it seemed. Because money had become more important to the girl than herself.

Through hazy eyes, the fox-lady blearily peered at the papers on her desk. Damn it all. Not a word written in anger for so long, and now the only words on paper were those she dreaded. She didn't even have enough money for another bottle of anaesthetic, let alone to actually make a difference in her life.

So, she would give away her body, her virginity, to someone just for a few yen.

And the worst part of all, as far as the fox was concerned, was that she would have enjoyed it. She _wanted_ Keitaro to take her. Wanted to be with him, even if it was just for money. Prepared to take the man her best friend used to love, _still_ loved, and do something her best friend had never dared to do. To brazenly and willingly betray Naru like that…..

But she would have. She'd do it right this second. Because, much as she didn't want to admit it, Mitsune loved the 'Kanrinin'. Deep down, the resentment she felt for Naru and her endless anti-male crusade was winning the battle with respect for her friend. After the girl had either taken or blocked every man that even looked at her, the fox had found herself twenty-four, single and seemingly well on the way to being an old maid.

With the distorted view only seen by those looking at life through the bottom of a glass, Mitsune suddenly focussed on Naru, and cast her as the sole reason she was alone. To the drunken woman, this was more than enough justification to go after Naru's old flame.

_She had her chances, and blew them. Sorry ol' buddy, but now the guy is fair game. _The fox gave a drunken 'hiccup' before draining the dregs of the bottle. _An' the predator is joinin' the hunt for real this time._ The silver-blond tipped the bottle back one last time, before realising that the last mouthful had drained the bottle completely.

"Ah, fuggit." The girl moaned, letting the bottle slip between her fingers and drop to the floor. "Now wha' 'm I gonna do?" No money equals no sake, after all. And no sake was not a scenario Mitsune could seriously consider at that moment in time. Frantically, the fox scanned her memory for where she might have a emergency stash of cash, or at least where she could find some that wouldn't be noticed missing.

"Sugar bowl….nah. Lingar-lingu-lenge, uh, underwear drawer….nah. Piggy bank…..ain't even got one." The prone girl moaned, ticking off each possibility as they exhausted themselves. Then, a vague recollection stirred in her head. A place that did have money, a fair bit of it in fact.

And it was possible the owner might not notice in a hurry.

Pushing herself to her feet and stumbling sideways until a handily placed wall stopped her, the fox-girl poked a hesitant head out into the hallway, checking for another presence. After several seconds of checking, during which she nearly brained herself on the door frame twice, Mitsune decided that the hallway was indeed empty. Creeping out of the room in what she hoped was a stealthy manner, but was in fact a weaving stumble, the fox set off to the location of her quarry.

Ignoring the little voice in her head, one that was drowned in a pool of alcohol and bitterness, which tried to tell her she was making a big mistake.

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So, what does the fox have in mind?

Probably best not to speculate in all honestly.

No proper cliffie this time, but I have one cooked up ready for one of the next few chapters…..

'Til next time.

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 at long last!

After so long I'm not going to hold anyone up with endless ranting, so I just want to say thanks to all my reviewers, I love you all! Additional thanks to rentauri for the feedback and discussion – I appreciate it a lot.

So, on with the show.

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Repercussions – Chapter 12

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"So let me get this straight." Haruka said, massaging her temples. "Not only did Kanako show up here, but she got into an almighty scrap with Motoko, and now she's been banished from the Hinata-sou."

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up." Keitaro replied, uneasy at the look in his aunt's eyes.

"Right." The dark-haired hostess withdrew her cigarette from between her lips, and exhaled a stream of smoke towards the ceiling. "So tell me, why did you take Motoko's side?"

"Eh?" The ex-ronin intelligently replied, clearly puzzled.

"Why did you insist on kicking your own sister, not flesh and blood but sister all the same, out of the Hinata-sou?" Seeing continued blankness on her nephew's face, Haruka sighed. The man could be beyond dense when it came to some of his housemates. "What I mean is, there was an argument. And it got nasty. From what you told me, it was Motoko who showed the first signs of disrespect, not Kanako."

"Well, um….." Keitaro found himself suddenly speechless. How had he missed that fact? Kanako loved him, maybe not in a way he was comfortable with, but loved him all the same. She had every right to make her point. On top of that, the youngest Urashima had no reason to trust Motoko – she had no knowledge of the swordswoman's vow or the circumstances it was based upon.

"I reckon that right now Kanako is feeling hurt, and not a little betrayed. She was trying to defend you, and in the end you sided with the one she sees as the enemy." Haruka withdrew the stub of her cigarette from her mouth and almost stubbed it out on the varnished floor, before realising that it wouldn't exactly endear her to the inn's matriarch (who happened to be upstairs at that very moment.)

"…..You know, I never saw it that way. You're right too….." The bespectacled man frowned, suddenly feeling remorseful. "Motoko did provoke her. She made the first physical threat. And she was going to draw her sword until Su stopped her…..." When faced with the facts like that, Keitaro couldn't help but think he might have misjudged the situation a little bit.

Or, to put it bluntly, made a major-league cock-up and let his sister down – one of the few individuals who had always supported him.

"You see, Keitaro-bozu, I'm not so interested in the fine details. What I want to know is why you went against Kanako?" Haruka stated bluntly, hands on hips.

"I don't know really." Keitaro replied vaguely, although he was beginning to form some kind of idea. "Maybe…..maybe it's because the girls here are like my new family. They rely on each other, and on me. I'd do almost anything for them."

"Including go against your real relatives?" The brown-haired man gave a rueful chuckle, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head.

"Looks that way, doesn't it?"

"Is it because you want to keep Motoko here at all costs?" The scratching stopped as Keitaro stared at his aunt in shock.

"Wha-no! Well, yes, but….." The ex-ronin frowned slightly, casting his gaze to the floor and his blurred reflection within it. "I guess I want everyone to stay here. The last few years, although hard at times, have been some of the happiest off my life. This is my life now – you, Motoko, Shinobu, Mutsumi, Naru….." Keitaro paused, taking a slow breath. "I want to keep everyone together, keep things as they are. I know it's impossible for everyone to stay forever, but I'm happy dreaming that it could happen." He finished softly, not wanting to meet his aunt's eyes. For several moments not a sound was made, until Haruka huffed gently.

"So you saw Kanako as being someone who could upset the apple cart." A guilty nod was the reply. "Well, listen Kei-bozu. It's hardly like you're playing happy families at the moment, is it? Naru nearly drove you over the edge, Motoko is still drawing her weapon as an alternative to thinking, and I don't even want to mention Kitsune. Maybe your sister is seeing the real picture, and those specs you're wearing are rose-tinted." Haruka winced slightly at the brutal honesty she'd spouted, but getting her thoughts off her chest felt good all the same.

"Maybe you're right, Haruka-san." Keitaro replied quietly. "But if I've got rose-tinted glasses on, I'm happier wearing them."

"You can't let things go on like this forever….."

"Watch me try." Haruka and her nephew glared at each other, before Keitaro dipped his gaze. "Fine, I'll have a word with Kanako, and apologise. I definitely owe her that."

"While I have a friendly chat with Motoko and let her know that the agreement we have doesn't contain any special clauses." Seeing her nephew about to protest, the currently not smoking lady held up a hand. "I'm not going to kick her out, but I will be telling her that she's lucky you're fighting her corner. However, let me make it clear to you as well – I'm not going to put up with it any more."

"Fine." The brown-haired man acceded.

"Well, now we're sorted with that….." Haruka trailed off as errant footsteps thudded down the stairs, before a drunken fox lurched into view. The silver-haired girl looked particularly pleased about something – a fact that caused Haruka's eyes to narrow dangerously.

"Hey there, guys!" Mitsune cheered, drawing herself into some semblance of order. "I'm off down the shop for some snacks, anyone want me ta pick somethin' up for 'em?"

"Uh, no thanks Kitsune-san." Keitaro answered, missing his aunt's obvious annoyance.

"I'd like some aspirin. For the headache you're giving me." Haruka ground out.

"No probs!" The girl slinked over to the door, before turning and giving a cheery wave. "See y'all later!" With that she semi-fell through the open doorway into the snowy night, pulling it shut behind her.

"I swear that girl is going to be the death of me." Haruka muttered in exasperation, drawing a fresh cigarette from her packet and lighting up quickly.

"She's starting to worry me as well." Replied the brown-haired man, although with a totally different inflection. The pair stared at the now closed door in silence, wondering where Mitsune had conjured the money from, and what on earth she was going to do next.

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It seemed that Su had a slightly skewed perception on the events that had taken place around the dinner table. At least Kanako knew for certain that the Molmolian was pinning the whole thing on her.

The reason for her suspicions?

The mecha-Tama which had been following her around like a faithful pet for the previous two hours.

It wasn't that Kanako would have minded, after all, turtles weren't high on her phobia list (unlike a certain swordswoman, who probably would be quietly gurgling in a corner.) The problem was that the turtle came equipped with special features.

The most remarkable being a very large loudspeaker perched precariously upon its gleaming emerald shell.

This, on its own wouldn't have been a problem. Indeed, if it had been playing some decent music or maybe spouting a limerick or two, there might have been some entertainment value.

But it wasn't.

It wasn't even constantly blaring with offensive sound, or the most irritating songs known to humankind. It was doing something even more annoying.

Kanako didn't know how Su had managed it, but the little foreigner had tuned it to her voice, or maybe even her thought processes. Heaven knows how, but she had.

As a result every time Kanako opened her mouth to speak, the room was instantly filled with white noise, broadcast at glass-shattering volume from the loudspeaker sat atop the mecha-Tama.

The younger Urashima had tried to escape, but her adversary seemed to have every tracking mechanism in the book, from image recognition to infra-red to radar. She had attempted to remove the speaker, but after twenty minutes of very unsuccessful pursuit the girl had come to understand the cumbersome machine was agile as a salmon in water.

She had even tried to simply destroy the entire thing, but discovered that mecha-Tamas also possessed……countermeasures.

Hence a smoking and charred Kanako was limping through the lobby of the Hinata-sou, feeling well and truly fed up with life. She'd left grandma Hina in the springs with Mutsumi (about an hour after Su had gone mysteriously absent) deciding that the Okinawan's cheeriness was really beginning to grate on her nerves.

"Should've turned this place into a hotel while I had the chance….." She grated to herself, whilst white noise filled the room. The girl decided she'd had enough of the Hinata-sou for one day, and was fully intent on going outside to get some fresh air until grandma Hina was ready to leave.

"Whoops!" The black-haired girl was so intent on her musings that she nearly walked smack into Mitsune, who was furtively sneaking through the front door with large, clinking bags in each hand. "Ah, sorry. Wasn't payin' attention….." The fox trailed off when she realised exactly who she had just run into, and at the narrow-eyed look she was receiving.

"Konno-san." Kanako stated calmly, hands on hips. In response Mitsune covered her ears as a blanket of sound assaulted them.

"Su-chan musta perfected the anti-small-talk-Tama." The fox muttered, putting her bags down before pacing over to the floating mechanical turtle and twiddling a few knobs on its side. After a worrying few seconds of frantic beeping the machine's whirring ceased. It seemed to hang ponderously in mid-air for a moment, until gravity started paying attention and realised that it was back in control again.

And the turtle fell to the floor with an almighty 'thud'.

As Mitsune and Kanako looked on, a tiny fissure appeared on the bottom of the lower shell and spread, like ice splintering, all the way up the emerald shell. For a moment the clinking sound stopped, and both girls realised they were holding their breath. After several seconds of motionless silence, during which nothing interesting happened, the two decided it was safe to exhale.

And jumped as, with an almighty 'CRACK' the Tama split neatly in two.

As the two ends rolled away from one another, Mitsune sweatdropped.

"I reckon Su's gonna kill me for that….." It was at that moment that the still half-drunk woman realised that Kanako was eyeing her with somewhere between suspicion and outright hostility.

"How convenient we meet again."

"Uh, yeah." Mitsune replied, all too aware that as far as the girl before her was concerned, they had unfinished business. _I wish I'd left the damn mecha-Tama on now….._

"I'm not going to beat around any bushes, it's not my style." Hands on hips, Kanako glared at the silver-haired woman. "What the hell were you doing in the springs with my brother?" The fox eyed up her adversary with a lazy eye.

"I'm gonna leave that up ta yer imagination, sugar. Sure it can fill in the blanks, y'know?" She replied in an easy drawl, looking completely unruffled.

"Is that so?" The youngest Urashima allowed a dark smile to appear. "Well, I'm thinking that someone who is so blatantly sneaking into the house with armfuls of booze would rather have me talk quietly than announce their presence at the top of my voice……" Mitsune's eyes widened in shock.

"You wouldn't." The deep inhalation Kanako took indicated that she, in all probability, would. "Okay, okay. I like the guy, alright? I was tryin' it on with him, and I damn well would've given the chance." For a moment the two women stared at each other, before the silver-haired one continued. "An' I reckon ya would too, given the chance."

"I'm not denying it." Came the cool response. Mitsune sighed slowly, before stepping to one side.

"Were ya goin' out?" Silently the brown-eyed girl nodded, before striding towards the open doorway. Pulling alongside the cautious fox, she paused mid-step.

"I'd be grateful if you left my brother alone."

"I'd be grateful if ya'd get it into your head that he's your brother." Mitsune snorted gently. "If I had a brother, I'd sure as hell be weirded right out if he started tryin' it on with me."

"But we're not related!" Scowled Kanako, voice taking on a defensive edge.

"But ya are. He's your 'brother' isn't he?" The silver fox growled in frustration as the girl beside her stubbornly refused to face facts. "Look kiddo, he can either be your brother, or your lover. No way in hell is he gonna be both. The guy don't know what to do with himself when yer usin' him as a climbin' frame. One thing I'm sure of is he ain't ever gonna go romancin' his sister." As her voice trailed off Mitsune took a deep breath and eyed the figure alongside her warily, wondering if she was going to be on the receiving end of a high-decibel mouthful. In the end, Kanako's response was both surprising and unexpected.

She simply walked out.

Mitsune stared after her in shock. No rejoinder? No cutting comment?

Shrugging minutely, the silver-eyed girl decided not to hang around the lounge with her hands full of drink – it might invite awkward questions, such as where the money came from.

A tiny noise, barely audible, suddenly drew the fox's attention. It sounded like a ticking. A ticking that seemed to be coming from the broken monstrosity that was sat in the middle of the room. As she watched, a sliver of smoke began to rise ominously from beneath the carapace…..

Mitsune didn't know she could move fast any more, but as an explosion rocked the house from the room she had just left, the fox was certainly glad that she did.

Scooping up the bottles strewn around her, Mitsune hurriedly rushed to her room before anyone could arrive to investigate the scene. Slipping through the doorway she set the heavy bags down, before emptying them of their contents. Holding a couple of bottles up to the light, the girl couldn't help but smile. Some good quality sake had been procured, and the best part was there was money to spare.

The silver-eyed girl slipped out of her red top and jeans, deciding to go for the comfort of her white nightgown while she enjoyed the best drink she'd had in ages.

Hopefully it'd help to stop her conscience screaming at her.

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Motoko relaxed in the steam, eyes closed. The day had proven to be another that was a little too eventful for her tastes. Between Kanako's obtrusive behaviour and another lecture from Haruka – one that left her in no doubt that she had no lives left to play with – it had been more trying than she had wanted, although sadly no more eventful than what seemed to be the norm at present.

The ebony-haired girl lay her head back against the smooth stone behind her, and stared up into the presently snow-free sky. Between all the fun and games that had been going on, she'd barely had time to pick up a revision book or perform a kata all day.

"Ah well." She murmured, willing the stress to leave her body. It was late, how late the young lady wasn't sure, but certainly after midnight. All the same, Motoko doubted that sleep was going to arrive imminently.

"Oh! Sorry Motoko-san, I didn't know you were here." Shinobu's voice drifted through the steam. "I'll come back later."

"No, it's no problem, Shinobu-chan." The kendoist could almost hear the hesitation of the violet-haired girl, and smiled gently. "I'd be happy for the company. Please, come and join me." Another moment of hesitation, before the sound of approaching splashing announced that she had been taken up on her offer.

"Thank you, Motoko-san." The short figure of the resident chef and home-maker became gradually more distinct, until Shinobu's figure became clearly visible through the shroud of mist that lingered above the still springs surface. Wordlessly, the girl took a seat opposite, cream towel fastened modestly around her chest.

"Any time, Shinobu-chan." This time, with the girl opposite clearly visible, Motoko didn't miss the obvious flinch. ""Is something wrong?"

"No, no. Not really……" Shinobu trailed off, peering down at her own reflection in the still waters. After a few seconds, the girl continued in a hushed tone. "By the way, I'd like to thank you for loaning me those old kimonos, and showing me how to wear one properly. I'll return them to you tomorrow, once they've been cleaned properly."

"No rush." The heir to the Shinmei-ryu shrugged, letting her head rest back again. "They don't fit me any more; you are welcome to keep them should you wish."

"I'd rather you had them back." Came a very definite reply. Motoko eased herself into a position where she could rest a single olive eye on Shinobu. The girl looked thoroughly woebegone.

"Well, if you insist, Shinobu-chan….." 

"Stop calling me that!" At the unexpected outburst Motoko slowly raised her head again, to see the girl opposite trembling with frustration.

"Stop calling you what, Shinobu-chan?" The purple-haired girl almost growled at the unwanted suffix.

"Chan, of course! It makes me sound like a four year old!"

"If you haven't noticed, Shinobu…..san, it is common parlance to address a younger girl as 'chan'." Motoko replied slowly, eyebrows creasing into a frown. "I fail to see how it is of any great importance."

"It's very important!" The purple-haired girl insisted, refusing to drop the point. "It makes me look like the baby of the Hinata-sou. I'm sixteen now! I'd like to be addressed as an adult, the adult I am." The black-haired lady evenly gazed at the frustrated figure opposite.

"If you haven't noticed, everyone gets called by that around here from time to time." Mulling the idea over in her head, Motoko decided to go straight for the jugular. "Especially Keitaro, he refers to us all much the same."

"But it's different when he talks to me!" Shinobu took several deep breaths, trying to calm down after her outburst. "I know we've dropped the formality altogether, but when everyone else treats me like a kid, it's bound to rub off on him….." As the violet-haired head drooped, Motoko felt her heart go out to her young friend.

"I'm sorry, Shinobu-chan." Which turned out to be the wrong thing to say.

"I told you to stop saying that!" The diminutive girl yelled, springing to her feet.

"Why?" A third voice drifted through the mist, one that saw Motoko stiffen involuntarily. "What difference is it going to make?"

"All the difference, Haruka-san!" Shinobu cried vehemently, dashing the water with a swiping hand. "How am I supposed to be a woman when everyone treats me like a girl?"

"Shinobu, you are what you are." Seeing the violet-eyed girl about to retort, Haruka held up her hand. "Kiddo, what has the last week told you? All that business with kimonos, manners and graces? Has that honestly left you anywhere you weren't before?"

"Well, no, but……"

"Ah, come on Shinobu-chan. You've got to admit, it didn't do any good in the end." Seeing Shinobu too upset to reply, the older woman sighed gently. "I knew why you were doing what you were doing. And I also knew that, when it came to the crunch, it wouldn't make an ounce of difference. I tried to tell you so many times, there's no quick fix, no magic formula. Only time. That's the way life is." The violet-haired girl peered down at the still waters pooled around her waist, fringe hiding her face.

"Why did it have to be this way?" She eventually muttered, throat choked with emotion.

"Because life sucks sometimes." Came the even reply, not without compassion. "I'm thirty-plus, and I still wake up sometimes wondering what the hell everything is about. Don't forget, being older doesn't grant you the key to the world, or love, or anything. I'm sure Motoko will back me up on this." Haruka glanced at the swordswoman, who gave a solemn nod.

"I myself find myself at a crossroads, one that will have far-reaching consequences irrelevant of my choice. I know I'm not the person I used to be, but I'm not the person I'm going to be either." The raven-haired lady stated calmly, arms folded.

"I don't see what this had to do with me and Sem- Keitaro though……" Shinobu whispered, looking lost.

"Well, what it means is……you can't pretend to be someone you're not. You're Shinobu aged sixteen, and will be no matter how many tea ceremonies you perform." The café owner stated kindly. "You know what Keitaro said to me, just the other day? He said 'I wish the real Shinobu would come back'. I'm afraid you're stuck being a sixteen year old, at least until you turn seventeen. Just be happy you're someone that people love you all the same." For several long seconds the three figures remained silent, until the youngest spoke in a meek voice.

"Yeah. I'm gonna be little old Shinobu for a while yet…..might as well get used to it, right?" The violet-haired girl looked up, with an utterly defeated expression.

"I'm sorry Shinobu-chan. But you know none of us would want you to change, least of all Keitaro." Haruka murmured gently, placing a soft hand on the girl's shoulder. "And who knows? Maybe this time next year you'll look back and wonder what all the fuss was about." Shinobu slowly nodded once, resigned.

"We'll see, I guess. Thanks, Haruka-san." With that the small figure sloshed her way to the edge of the springs, before climbing slowly onto the wooden decking. "Oh, and Motoko-san…..if I could keep the indigo one, I think it really suits me……." Motoko couldn't help but smile at the request.

"Of course, Shinobu…..san." Although the towel-clad figure had her back to her, the swordswoman could almost see the rueful smile.

"Thank you, Motoko-san." With that the girl slipped through the bath's entrance, and was gone.

The pair still within the bath sat in silence until the sounds of movement disappeared, before letting out synchronous sighs.

"Poor girl." Motoko nodded, sinking deeper into the warm fluid.

"I agree. It seems her gamble did not pay dividends in the end." Haruka nodded, reaching for a cigarette before remembering that she'd left them in the changing room. Water and cigarettes do not a happy smoker make, after all.

"Keitaro told me as much." It suddenly seemed to occur to the heir to the Shinmei-ryu who she was sat in the baths with, as she suddenly stiffened and went quiet. Until Haruka laughed. "Ah, calm down would you? I haven't come in here to pick a fight, that's already done and dusted." The jovial tone suddenly became a little less jovial. "But be aware that there will be no more chances, no matter what my nephew says."

"Uh, right Haruka-san." Was the uneasy response.

"Good! Now, since we're clear on that..." Haruka relaxed back in her own chosen spot, examining her nails carefully. "I thought it was such a pleasant night that I'd come and unwind in the springs for a while. In fact, the night was so nice, that I invited my husband along to join me." Motoko nodded along drowsily as she revelled in the sensation of warmth, allowing herself to fully relax. Until…..

"What?!" The pale-skinned girl sprang to her feet, drawing her towel up with her. "Why didn't you tell me Haruka-san?"

"Oh, it must have slipped my mind." The woman stated simply, expression implacable. With a noise that could only be described as 'eep' Motoko ran like hell for the exit. As the sounds of clattering feet slowly faded, Haruka allowed herself a satisfied smile.

Having a husband around had its benefits.

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Mutsumi hummed to herself quietly, scanning her textbooks with a vague smile. It was time to get back to doing some work, the impromptu holiday seemed to be over.

In other words, the snow had melted, and there was no longer any easy way of avoiding lectures.

It was a welcome surprise to awaken in the morning and not find a white-laden landscape staring back at her. The cold and ice had never agreed with the Okinawan's frail and temperamental constitution. It seemed the wind had changed to a milder direction, and brought with it the warmth to thaw what had seemed to be an eternal frost.

The down side was that the air was moist.

The outcome was something that was between drizzle and downpour. It was the kind of rain that had decided it would go on all day if the mood took it.

Mutsumi wasn't overly fond of the rain either. Okinawa tended to be on the sunny side, and the long-haired girl found her smile was that little bit brighter when the weather was fine. Not to say her smile wasn't bright the rest of the time, but a little bit of blue sky always made life look that little bit sweeter.

"Mutsumi-san! Breakfast!" A call from outside her room caused the shapely woman to rise slowly from her desk, pulling her long mahogany hair into a loose bun. There would be time to do it up properly before going for the train. It was better than the alternative - Seta had offered to drive herself and Keitaro to university with him every morning, in the back of his trusty white van. However, the survival instinct had kicked in for both of the ex-ronins, who had politely but firmly declined. Plus, in all honesty, Mutsumi couldn't pretend she didn't enjoy travelling to the University with Keitaro. Especially since Naru had moved away, leaving just the two of them.

Mutsumi couldn't imagine that Keitaro had declined the offer with the same thing in mind, but the Okinawan was quite happy for the man to remain clueless as ever.

Drawing her long gown more tightly around her, the young woman strolled easily out of her room and made her way to the living room. As ever, the table was already full of chattering people. Su sat with a sizeable bowl before her, almost trembling at the thought of breakfast. Motoko relaxed peacefully by herself, seemingly happy to observe goings on. Haruka and Seta in casual conversation, the latter with a folded newspaper grasped in one hand and the inevitable tobacco stick in the other. Sara McDougall was slowly, and with apparent delight, grating a chopstick over Keitaro's head whilst his attention was upon a snoring Mitsune (who only came to the table because Shinobu wouldn't let her stay in bed).

Despite the awful weather, Mutsumi felt her usual smile grow brighter as she made her way to the table. In a way, this was her home away from home. Although she wouldn't give away her true family for the world, the foster family that made up the Hinata-sou had a special place in her heart.

Especially a certain one of them.

"Ready in a few seconds, everyone!" Came a familiar voice from the kitchen, one that made Mutsumi smile all the wider. Shinobu, back to her normal self.

Well, not quite. The girl was still a little edgy, and refused to really meet Keitaro's eyes. But, all in all, she was in a much better state than she had been only a few days before.

"Good morning Mutsumi-san." Motoko greeted calmly as the young woman sat in the seat alongside Keitaro. It had not gone unnoticed that Sara now sat on the Kanrinin's other side – Shinobu now taking a shine to the seat beside Haruka. However, no-one had mentioned it.

"Good morning yourself, Motoko-san. Going to cram school today?" The Okinawan politely responded, pouring her morning cup of tea.

"Yes. It is not wise to rest on one's laurels, after all." Mutsumi nodded in response. This was Motoko after all – anyone else may have been tempted to enjoy a little break after such a resounding success. But not the heir to the Shinmei-ryu. Although, hand on heart, Mutsumi was a little surprised by the devotion and dedication the raven-haired swordsmistress displayed to her aim of entering Tokyo University. Given that she seemed fated to inherit her family's school, it wasn't as if Motoko's future depended on making it.

"Ah! Sara-chan, cut it out!" It seemed that Keitaro had finally realised that he was going to have some very odd coloured dandruff that morning.

"Can it, dork." Sara replied snappily, albeit without any real venom. "It's not like you haven't got rubbish hair anyway, I'm just spicing it up a little." A long, slow look from the Kanrinin drew a frustrated sigh and a pout from the blond pre-teen, who sat down in her chair with a huff. "Sheez, you're no fun."

"Now now Sara, you know the last time you put shavings in Keitaro's hair half the class thought he had head lice." Seta chided mildly, turning over a page in the newspaper. Once Keitaro had returned to something approaching his normal colour and everyone else had finished laughing, Shinobu emerged from the kitchen with the first of several bowls, all laden with mouth-watering foods.

Which effectively drew conversation to a halt for quite some time.

It was after about ten minutes that something drew Mutsumi's attention. It was the fact that, every so often when he thought no-one was looking, Keitaro would stare at the comatose and snoring figure of Mitsune who was slumped face down on the table. The Okinawan couldn't quite work out exactly what the man was doing, but couldn't ignore a few faint stirrings of unease nonetheless.

After half an hour and several satisfied compliments, the final dish was cleared away, and the sound of washing up emanated from the kitchen. Su was the one actually responsible for once – not that she was actually doing the work herself, but the girl had at some point decided to make a machine which would rinse, dry, stack and shelve plates all in one fell swoop. The machine somewhat resembled a massive spider – a small central body with numerous arms and legs bristling from it. It was proudly christened 'The wishy-washy two-point-two' by it's Molmolian creator. The reason it was version two-point-two was because the first couple of attempts had not been without their little foibles – there was still china embedded in the ceiling, and a curious hole in the middle of a dinner plate that could have only been created by some seriously vigorous polishing.

Today, however, things seemed to be working just fine.

No-one had died yet, in any case.

"Here's your lunch!" Shinobu called, depositing three neatly wrapped bentos on the communal table for the two Tokyo university students and one aspirant to pick up, before making herself scarce to prepare for school.

"So, Ura-Keitaro, any plans for today?" Motoko asked politely, strolling back into the room dressed for the weather, navy umbrella grasped easily in her left hand.

"Well, nothing really." Keitaro replied, scouring the room for his own umbrella. "The usual – go to lectures, piece together some pottery, have it broken over my head again by Sara, go to the rest of the lectures, do some studying, come home." The Kanrinin scratched the back of his head carelessly, sheepish smile on his face. "When you put it that way, Tokyo University doesn't seem so glamorous, does it?"

"Oh I don't know, Kei. It sounds like just what I want." Motoko replied surely, olive eyes flashing with intent. "In any case, I'm going to bid you adieu, else I will be late. And as I have stated in the past, I do not tolerate tardiness well. Including my own." The present and the ex-ronin caught one another's eyes briefly as a private joke passed between them. The moment was gone in a flash as Motoko spun on her heel and strode to the door, before throwing it open and disappearing out into the steady downpour.

"Ara. Shall we go, Kei?" Mutsumi murmured gently, eyeing the unrelenting rain with a hint of distaste.

"Give me a sec." The bespectacled man searched around briefly for a few moments, before cupping his hands to his mouth. "Su-chan!"

"Hiya Keitaros!" The tan girl sprang into sight seemingly from nowhere, school skirt settling easily around her legs as she landed.

"Su-chan, have you seen my umbrella?" Su put her finger to her mouth, adopting the classic 'thinking' pose.

"Uh, nah, I don't think so."

"Okay." Keitaro took a deep breath. "Su-chan, can you remind me what happened with the wishy-washy two-point-one? It seems to have slipped my mind." Su beamed happily, back on firmer ground.

"Well, it went boom! After causing nearly three hundred thousand yen worth of damage, though."

"And almost killing three people?"

"Nah, that plate missed Shinobu's head by at least six millimetres. I reckon if that fork had nailed you properly you'd still have made it too. Although probably not _all_ of you." The Molmolian stated happily, as if near-death experiences involving cutlery were ten a penny. "Come to think of it, are you still applying that cream three times a day?" Keitaro reddened at the inquisitive chocolate gaze, whilst Mutsumi ached to know exactly what the Kanrinin had had to apply cream to.

"Well yes, but…..that's not the point. I thought it was a promise between me, you and Shinobu to never bring that up again." Su grinned cheerily.

"You started it!" The brown-eyed man couldn't argue, as technically he had.

"That's not important. What I mean to get around to, is why did the 'perfect kitchen assistant' go on a mad killing spree?" Keitaro spelled out with seemingly limitless patience.

"That's easy! I didn't factor in the use of soapy water. Once it hit the control box, the AI got a little upset."

"Ara, upset? It took three people to get that knife out of the floor." Mutsumi murmured, hand touching her mouth.

"Well, if it had really gotten angry, you'd be cleaning up the kitchen wall with a hoover." Keitaro sighed at the endless sidetracking, and decided to get straight to the point.

"Su-chan, what did you use to damp-proof the wishy-washy two-point-two?" Su once again assumed the 'pondering' stance, before breaking out into a beaming smile.

"I found a sheet of waterproof stuff, and stuck it over the controls."

"Was this waterproof stuff attached to something else? Like a little metal stick? Maybe with lots of little metal spokes coming out of it?" The dark-skinned girl nodded eagerly, smile still happily in place. "So, what you in fact did, was use my umbrella to waterproof your latest creation?"

"Well, not all of it." Su pouted, obviously stung by the accusation. "I used some of it to reinforce the stacking arm, it got bent out of shape when I sat on it." Keitaro sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

"So why did you tell me you haven't seen it?" The diminutive figure looked puzzled.

"Because I haven't. You can't see it from the outside, I'd have to take the front panel off." The two university students blink-blinked in unison, remembering that normal everyday logic didn't always apply to Koalla Su.

"Okay, fine then." Keitaro straightened up, stretching his back carefully. "We'd better be going, otherwise we'll miss the train. If we do, the alternative doesn't bear thinking about." The brown-haired man glanced over at Seta, who was stood beneath the awning on the front porch and watching the falling rain with an appreciative air.

The two mahogany-eyed students shuddered.

"Ara, I have to agree with you there." Mutsumi nodded, but then paused. "So Kei, what are you going to do today? I wouldn't like to try recovering your fragmented umbrella from inside that wishy-washy thing." The man stood beside her zipped his sturdy winter jacket up to his neck, wishing not for the first time that Sara hadn't stolen the hood.

"I suppose what I'm going to do is get wet." He stated briefly, before striding to the doorway and out onto the front porch.

"Sure I can't talk you into a ride, part-timer?" Seta suggested casually, leaning back against the wooden rail, cigarette butt inevitably present.

"Thanks but no thanks, Seta-san." Came the reply as the kanrinin took one last deep breath, before stepping out into the energetic downpour.

He didn't get as wet as he'd expected.

The sound of soft pattering above him drew his gaze upwards, where his eyes rested on an aquamarine canopy. The gaze travelled down along the handle, up a red-jacketed arm and then up into the face of Mutsumi, who was stood half a pace behind, her umbrella sheltering them both.

"Kei, you don't want to catch a cold." The girl stated definitely, stepping alongside him. "Now it's not the biggest umbrella, but it'll do for the two of us….." Mutsumi trailed off, anxiously biting her lip whilst mahogany eyes pleaded with Keitaro to accept her offer.

For a few moments, the only sound was the pattering of raindrops.

"Yeah. That'd be nice, Mutsumi." The Okinawan almost jumped for joy at the positive reply, one that was accompanied by the most genuine smile the girl had seen her friend wear in months.

"No problem, Kei." In her delight, Mutsumi reverted back to her old way of expressing happiness.

In short, she leaned up and kissed Keitaro flush on the lips.

Cue another pause.

"Ara, sorry..." Mutsumi blushed and turned her head away, feeling thoroughly awkward.

"Mutsumi……it's okay." The girl peeked out of the corner of her eye and saw her friend looking down at her with a neutral expression. "You caught me by surprise that's all. You used to kiss everyone, although it's been a long time." The neutral expression faded, to be replaced by a gentle smile. "Don't make it so long before the next time, okay?" Mutsumi peered up into the irises that matched her own for a long second, before feeling a grin sweep across her own face.

"You've got it, Kei." The feminine Okinawan moved herself a few inches closer to her friend, until her shoulder was resting against the crook of his arm. At the contact Mutsumi allowed herself a few moments of blissful contentment, imagining a future where every rainy day saw her huddled together with her beloved, sharing the same umbrella, the same space, the same warmth.

_I think I could stay here forever….._

"Come on, let's go for the train. Otherwise it's the white van for us." Keitaro murmured softly, disturbing the daydream.

"Do you want to hold the umbrella?" The girl asked, offering the handle to her friend.

"No, it's fine as it is." Keitaro reassured. For the first time ever, as Keitaro edged in yet closer to stay out of the rain, Mutsumi was glad her umbrella was that bit smaller than average.

As the pair disappeared down the staircase-cum-waterfall, Seta threw his cigarette end to the floor and stubbed it out before slipping back into the house with a smile.

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Motoko stared into the middle distance, chin propped on a cupped hand.

It was unlike the swordsmistress to not pay attention to her teacher, and utterly unheard of for her to be ignorant of her surroundings. To the point where the rest of her classmates were watching her in uncertain silence, and wondering whether the end of the world had come.

The raven-haired girl was unaware of this however, as she let the tiniest hint of a sigh escape through her lips. To say her mind was miles away would be quite accurate – it was actually three miles away, back at the Hinata-sou. Motoko sighed again, this time more audibly, drawing a raised eyebrow from her teacher. The thirty something lady watched her usually most attentive pupil's blank-eyed stare with puzzlement, before deciding with an internal shrug that everyone was allowed a bad day occasionally.

As the auburn-haired woman swept an errant lock behind her ear and went back to explaining geometry, the rest of the class came to the unanimous decision that, boring as maths was, it was still preferential to watching a human statue.

Through all the curiosity Motoko sat completely unaware, grappling with more troubling issues.

The first of which was her behaviour a few days ago.

Yes, Kanako had pushed all of the right buttons. And yes, the younger Urashima had stepped over the line.

However, so had she.

She hadn't even tried to be civil, which was disappointing. Although there was history between Kanako and most of the Hinata residents, it was unbecoming of an adult to allow it to automatically cloud judgement. However, this was only a minor point of annoyance to the swordsmistress.

The thing that did scare Motoko was the speed with which she made the dispute physical.

There was no need for it, really. She could have continued arguing, she could have said nothing at all and let Kanako burn herself out. She could even have walked away.

But no. She had reached for her sword instinctively, seeking it to end a dispute that should never have happened in the first place. When it came to the crunch, her first response was always to try and fight her way out of the predicament. What was initially a war of words became a full physical battle, something that was completely unnecessary.

What really shook Motoko was the memory that followed. One of glancing at Keitaro out of the corner of her eye, and seeing fear written clear as crystal in the Kanrinin's deep hazel eyes. Fear of her, her power and her aggression.

For reasons that she couldn't fathom, that sight hurt far more than any of the words that Kanako may have launched her way. She had seen the same expression many times in the past (often from very close proximity as she prepared to sent the brown-haired man into low earth orbit) yet it had never really affected her. Perhaps it was because the look was that much more intense now than it ever had been – the endless stream of pervert bashings had left more than physical scars on the Kanrinin.

Or possibly because Motoko had grown to genuinely love the clumsy ex-ronin, and the knowledge that he still secretly feared her was like pouring vinegar on an open wound.

In all honesty, the swordswoman couldn't blame him.

"...ma-san..."

After all, until the last few months, she'd threatened his life on a daily basis.

"Aoyama-san..."

Given that history, who could blame him?

"Aoyama-san!"

"Wha?" The olive-eyed girl suddenly sat bolt upright, seeing the teacher and every one of her classmates peering at her with interest. It took the elegant girl all of ten milliseconds to regain her composure, but no-one missed the tiny blush that tinged the normally pale cheeks a faint shade of rose.

"Nice to see you're with us again." The teacher stated calmly, albeit with a hint of humour. "Now, I was going to ask you to explain the solution to this puzzle, but as you've been on another planet for the last ten minutes it would be a pointless exercise. Is that correct?" Motoko wanted nothing more than to sink down in her seat and hide until the end of the lesson.

However, this being Motoko, the idea was out of the question.

"Yes. I apologise, Kurosawa-sensei." The girl intoned with a solemn nod.

"Apology accepted, Aoyama-san. Perhaps you could give me an answer, Kasuga-san?" As the teacher's attention fixed on another pupil – one that probably had even less chance of getting it right than Motoko – the swordsmistress found her mind inexorably drifting back to the matters in hand.

It wasn't just recent actions that were troubling her. It was also the dilemma underlying them – a dilemma that had been approaching for a long time.

Motoko had always known that she would be the heir to the Shinmei-ryu at some point. It was the way things were, a reality that she had at various times both rejoiced and abhorred, but always known to be the truth.

Now, however...

Now, for the first time in her life, the young woman's future appeared hazy. She really didn't want to let her sister down, but she really _really_ didn't want to leave the Hinata-sou. Possibilities that the girl had never really considered were coming into view, all of them tempting in their own way.

Because they would allow her to stay with Keitaro.

As the bell rang, signifying the end of the cram school day, Motoko resolved to focus on the present, and the Tokyo-U examinations. Getting into the university was her top priority, and after that...

After that, who knows?

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Well, that's that for now. I got some significant tellings off for my use of cliffies, so I thought it'd be nice to have a break from them.

Can't promise there won't be one in the next chapter though...

'Til next time!

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	13. Chapter 13

Well, chapter 13 at long last. It's been far too long again, real life is rubbish sometimes...

Hope this one is worth the wait!

I'd also like to respond to a review I received about the last chapter – someone said that it felt like a 'filler' chapter. I apologise if that's how it seemed, but I never write a scene without some kind of intention in mind, be it plot or character development. I hope this chapter is more to your liking!

Enough notes, time for the show.

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Repercussions – Chapter 13

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It was seven in the evening.

And still raining. Which wasn't surprising.

At points in the day it had seemed that the constant river of water falling from the skies might begin easing to something more like a stream, or perhaps a brook. Not a chance. Every time the downpour eased, it seemed to be in preparation for an even more drenching squall.

Keitaro stared at the water falling outside, enjoying the arrhythmic pattering of droplets striking his window. The man had never liked being out in the rain; getting wet may be fun in the shower or a hot bath, but as for on a late January day where breath steamed on exhaling, it was only a recipe for misery.

And, in all likelihood, a cold.

Although he had put a bold front on it, the mousy-haired ex-ronin was really appreciative of Mutsumi for sharing her umbrella. The bodily contact with someone he had come to regard as a close friend – make that really close – was also appreciated, although maybe not so consciously.

He had also appreciated something that the shapely Okinawan had brought up whilst they were on the train to Tokyo University. The conversation had been idle, when one of the burning issues on his mind had suddenly come to the fore.

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"I just don't know what the hell's going on in Mitsune's mind." Keitaro blurted out of the blue, during a lull in the comfortable verbal back-and-forth that the pair had enjoyed since leaving the Hinata-sou.

"Ara, what brought this on Kei?" Mutsumi asked, surprised by the sudden (and quite vehement) outburst. Keitaro shrugged frustratedly, drawing his coat around him in annoyance.

"Well….I just don't. She's spending most of the time smashed off her face on drink I'm more than sure she can't afford. And on top of that….." The dark-coated man broke off, suddenly finding great interest in his fingernails. Mutsumi watched for a few seconds, perplexed by the reaction.

"And on top of that?" She prompted mildly, undeniably curious. The curiosity was furthered when the young man beside her hurriedly muttered something indecipherable whilst paying even more intense attention to his cuticles. "Sorry Kei, I didn't catch that. Could you say it again?"

"Uhm….." Keitaro glanced up at her with a strangely familiar wide-eyed look, one that she had seen somewhere before. It was only when he began to edge carefully away from her that the familiarity struck. It was the way he had always reacted when he suspected a 'pervert bashing' was imminent. Gazing at the almost comically fearful expression of the man she loved, Mutsumi once again felt the stirrings of unfamiliar anger.

It must have showed, because Keitaro suddenly made to bolt. Thankfully, the Okinawan's hand caught his wrist before his backside was even out of his seat.

"Kei, sit down." As panicked brown eyes met her own, Mutsumi sighed. Old habits die hard, after all. "Please sit down. I don't care what's happened, just tell me." Seeing some sense beginning to return to the panicked man, the red-coated girl squeezed the clammy palm clasped between her hands, talking in a soothing tone. "Remember who you're talking to. I'd never lash out at you Kei, never." As their gazes met, the young woman could almost see sense filtering back into the mind of the man beside her. Several long seconds passed, before Keitaro let a deep breath slip out from between his lips.

"Ah, sorry about that Mutsumi." He chuckled, reaching up to scratch the back of his head with customary embarrassment.

"Don't be." The mahogany-haired girl responded, letting any ire she still held slip away.

Several long seconds of silence passed.

"So….what has Kitsune been up to?" Mutsumi prompted, sensing the absent-minded Kanrinin had had another goldfish moment.

"Oh yeah….." Sensing the same reaction beginning to occur, the curvaceous Okinawan gave the still captive hand another squeeze. At the gesture Keitaro calmed instantly, reassured by Mutsumi's words from moments before. "Well, uhm, every morning I've been waking up, and, uh….."

"And?"

"Well….." The brown-eyed man hesitated briefly, before taking a slow breath. "I wake up and she's sleeping beside me and nothing happened at all and I always take her back to her room and I'm always dressed and so is she sometimes and nothing happened at all I swear!" He blurted, seemingly keen to get the confession (and anticipated punishment) over and done with as quickly as possible. It took Mutsumi a few seconds to process the sentence, and digest its meaning.

Keitaro gulped as he watched normally gentle brown eyes narrow ever so slightly.

"Kitsune has been climbing into your bed every night for how long?" The Okinawan's alto voice asked slowly, something indescribable lilting every syllable.

"O-only for the last few days, s-since that whole business with Shinobu….." Keitaro replied anxiously. Mutsumi's response was unnerving to the Kanrinin. It was simply 'hmmmmm'. In the whole time he had known her, which was quite a long time, he'd never known Mutsumi to 'hmmmmm'. 'Ara' maybe, but not 'hmmmmm'. It was a noise with a hint of menace, if anything. "M-Mutsumi? Is everything okay?" For a few moments the normally cheery girl stared into the middle-distance before almost visibly coming back to reality.

"Ara, I'm fine, Kei." She reassured, although wheels were beginning to turn in the depths of her mind.

A loud 'bing-bong' tone from the train loudspeakers drew the attention of the pair to the world around them, and more specifically to the fact that several fellow Tokyo-U bound passengers were eyeing the pair with interest. The girls in particular seemed to be amused by the linked hands and close proximity of the two – as the red-faced pair watched, a group of the skirt clad students turned to one another and broke out into whispered conversation, punctuated regularly by giggles.

All hands were hurriedly returned to the laps of their respective owners.

After a few minutes of obvious embarrassment, the pair were relieved to hear an electronic female voice announce their stop. As the doors clanged open and the mass exodus began, Keitaro voiced another puzzling point.

"I'd really like to know where she got the money from." He said simply, getting to his feet as the crowd in the compartment eased. "I've checked all the usual coffee pots and storage places, but not a yen is missing. I reckon she's struggling a bit for cash as it is, so where?" At the blank expression, Mutsumi shrugged.

"Well, she might have borrowed it off someone." Scooping her aquamarine umbrella up in one hand, the Okinawan tied her red coat tightly in preparation for the rain.

"Who would loan her the money? Considering everyone knows what she was going to use it for….." Keitaro replied, likewise securing his coat. As the last of the crowd finally managed to push its way through the open doors Keitaro stepped onto the platform himself, before offering his hand to Mutsumi. The delicate Okinawan smiled as she took it, stepping down onto the platform and swinging her umbrella up to cover them both.

"Well, just because she's borrowing it, it doesn't mean the lender has to know……" She said cautiously, moving closer to the man beside her. Glancing up at Keitaro's face it seemed that something had suddenly clicked in his mind, something that wasn't entirely pleasant.

"You have a point." Keitaro trailed off as the pair walked together towards the gates of Tokyo University, rain trickling off the aquamarine canopy above their heads and dripping into the puddles at their feet.

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It was at that moment that Keitaro had worked out where Mitsune had procured the money from. It was only a suspicion until he had arrived home that evening, when he had checked.

And found his suspicion to be correct.

Hence, the Kanrinin was sat in his room, watching to the rain fall and listening to the soothing drumming of droplets on his window. All the while wondering how on earth the fox had managed to sink so low. Stealing rent money or the emergency stash was one thing, but this…..

Keitaro sighed, sliding his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose, sensing a headache coming on. What to do after this? He hadn't mentioned the subject to any of the girls – in fact, they should all be getting ready for dinner about now. He hadn't even confronted Mitsune, deciding there was something else he should do first.

Ask Haruka for her advice.

Sighing once more, the Kanrinin glanced up at the recently refurnished ceiling and suppressed a chuckle. The one benefit of the whole mess was that it certainly took his mind off other things. Either that or he was finally beginning to get over his lifelong crush.

The brown-haired man ran a hand through his scruffy locks and shook his head gently, deciding that was a subject for another time. In the present, it was time to stop enjoying the rain and go out in it.

Time for a 'coffee'.

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Seta was in the tea house, enjoying a glass of wine by candle-light with his aunt as Keitaro arrived. When the Kanrinin had asked Haruka if she had time for a 'coffee', the man had wisely made himself absent, citing some essays that required grading.

Haruka had poured Keitaro a steaming mug of brown liquid, and sat smoking with a curious expression as her 'nephew' began explaining.

By half-way through the explanation the cigarette was smoked to the butt, and the expression had become intense.

At the end of the tale, Keitaro had paused expectantly as he watched his aunt for an answer.

Haruka had looked at him for a very long moment, before silently and carefully pulling the remnants of her tobacco stick from between dark red lips and stubbing it definitely on the ashtray. Just as silently, the dark-haired lady had swept her long, straight mane back and tied it up with slow certainty. This was followed, as Keitaro watched with growing apprehension, by the slim woman gracefully rising and striding over to the coats hung up on the walls.

Wordlessly, the hostess grasped her nephew's still damp coat and flung it to him. Not needing to ask, Keitaro had donned it as Haruka slipped her own one on, fixing the buttons with rapid precision. Once her wet weather wear was secure, the woman quickly slipped her black shoes on and strode to the door. Which was almost thrown from its hinges by the strong arm that wrenched it open.

For a long moment Haruka stood on the doorstep, staring out at the pouring rain, warm breath misting instantly upon contact with the chilly night. As her nephew watched, she seemed to nod in finality before turning to face him.

When she spoke, it wasn't the questioning or discourse that Keitaro had expected. In fact, the woman only said two words.

"Let's go."

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Shinobu placed the last dish down, containing a huge mountain of rice, before taking her seat. The scent of curry wafted across the table, but nobody seemed that hungry. Not even Su, who normally wouldn't look twice at a plate of food – it would be gone long before the chance to take a second look.

The gaping space at the table belonging to Keitaro was the reason.

The violet-haired girl had not even bothered to set places for Haruka and Seta, having been informed of their plans in advance. However, when Keitaro had dropped by the fully occupied table and told her not to wait for him, with a look that suggested that something unpleasant was about to happen…..

It was Mutsumi that had confirmed various suspicions around the table, as she had spent the last few minutes staring at the one Hinata-sou occupant that didn't seem to have any idea anything was going on.

Mitsune, snoozing gently with her face resting on her arms, bottle of semi-expensive sake sat sentinel-like on the table at her side. The way the Okinawan gazed upon the unconscious girl, half with pity and half resignation, had made the hairs on the back of the violet-eyed home-maker's neck stand on end. Something was definitely about to happen, and unless she was very much mistaken, it involved the fox.

Glancing around the table, Shinobu could see that Motoko and Su were exchanging puzzled glances, whilst Sara got down to the serious business of eating.

Clearly the situation wasn't obvious to everyone.

As she scooped some rice onto her dish and ladled a reasonable serving of curry over the top of it, Shinobu couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before everything went……wrong.

Approximately two mouthfuls proved to be the answer.

The third forkful was mid-way to her mouth when the front door flew open with a deafening crash, one that resulted in the front of Shinobu's dress being tainted an interesting shade of brown. Grabbing a tissue to wipe the food off before it stained too badly, the girl looked up at the doorway.

Haruka didn't look like a demon from hell, or an angel of death, or anything as poetic as that. How she did look, however, was seriously pissed off.

"Kitsune!" She roared, stepping into the room, a slightly fearful Keitaro trailing in her wake. The failure of the silver fox to reply with anything more than a snore seemed to only incense her more. "Kitsune! Get up now otherwise I'll slap you awake, so help me!" Sensing Haruka's threat to be genuine, Motoko quickly shook the slumbering girl's shoulder.

"Mmmmf, sod off Keitaro-kun, I'm still kinda sore from last night….." The girl drowsily mumbled, before the shaking grew too persistent to ignore. Sluggishly she raised her aching head from it's wooden resting place, giving the swordswoman at her side a disgusted glare. "Ugh, cut it out! Sheez Motoko-san, the world is shaky enough without yer addin' to it….."

"Mitsune-san." The gravel-harsh voice that resonated through the room brought the fox-girl back to her senses with the effectiveness of an arctic-cold shower.

"Oh shi- Haruka-san! Good evening!" The girl slurred, trying to smooth her bedraggled mane into some kind of order. "Is there anythin' I can do for ya?" Red-rimmed silver eyes took in the figure of Haruka across the room, and grew wide with panic. "If it's about the rent, 's no problem, cheque's in the post, honest……" As the older woman stood stoically before her with arms firmly folded, something long-buried in the girl's head, the little voice that many call a conscience, finally found it's tongue.

It said simply: 'You reap what you sew.'

"No. It's not about the rent. It's about the little informal loan you took." The dark-haired woman unfolded her arms, and placed her hands on her hips. "The one that Keitaro gave you, without even knowing about it. You know, the one that involved you rifling through his closet? That involved over thirty thousand yen?" A chorus of gasps rang around the table, the loudest from Mutsumi.

"Ah, yeah. Y'see Haruka-san, I was plannin' on payin' Kei-kun back."

"When?" As Mitsune gaped silently, Haruka advanced on the frantic fox. "How? With what?" The older woman, fury etched into every line of her normally emotionless face, stood right before Mitsune and leaned down until they were eye to eye. "The way I see it, someone who borrows, or should I say _steals_ thirty thousand yen from someone isn't doing it with the intent of returning the money. She's doing it because she hasn't _got_ any, correct?" She continued in a steely tone, volume inching up word by word.

"Haruka-san, take it easy….." Keitaro muttered, placing a hand on his aunt's shoulder. One that was instantly shrugged off by the furious lady.

"No, I will not. This silly little bitch has had it coming to her. Stealing money from a member of my family is NOT something I will stand and ignore!" Haruka brushed off her nephew's protests, and returned to chewing out a now tearful Mitsune. "You know what that makes you, you stupid girl? It makes you a _thief!_ A heartless, money-grubbing bitch! And you know the best thing? What puts the icing on the cake?"

"Haruka-san, please! I don't want them to-" The Kanrinin's protests were summarily ignored by Haruka, who placed herself nose-to-nose with the crying fox, and stared deep into the streaming grey eyes with an intensity that burned. Once she was sure she had the drunken girl's entire and undivided attention, the elder Urashima continued in a voice that could melt steel.

"The best thing is, Kitsune-san, is that money was being saved to buy something very special. Very special indeed." Haruka took a breath, before finishing with obvious relish. "You see, That money had been saved to buy your very best friend an engagement ring……"

For just one moment, the silence was absolute.

"Kei, is this true?" Motoko asked, shifting every pair of eyes to the now stony-faced kanrinin. After a few seconds, the girls received their answer.

A tiny nod.

"Oh god….." Mitsune breathed, the horrible truth of her indiscretion beginning to sink in. Dull steel eyes, momentarily stunned into dryness, began to fill once more with salty water. Water which rapidly spilt beyond its edges and trailed down sallow cheeks, pattering carelessly upon the bedraggled fox's shaking hands. As the other residents watched on Mitsune drew her face into her hands and began slowly shaking, as a soft weeping punctuated the eerie quiet that had descended over the table.

"Ara….." The brown-haired Okinawan felt her heart go out to the distraught girl, any annoyance she may have felt earlier in the day evaporating beneath the overwhelming grief she saw before her. Glancing at the others, she saw her own pity reflected in the eyes of everyone. Well, almost everyone. Haruka seemed not in the least bit affected – if anything, her expression was simply that of annoyance. As she watched, the tall hostess cleared her throat before continuing in her usual flat tone.

"I'm afraid it's a bit late for tears, Konno-san. Far too late in fact." Haruka placed the palms of her hands upon the tabletop, and leaned forwards to address the sobbing silver-blond once more. "You can't claim that I haven't been fair. We've spoken about this more than once, with others around the table present. I made it perfectly clear, one last chance, did I not?"

"What?" Keitaro's confused tone caused his aunt to crane her head around to look at him. "What do you mean, last chance Haruka-san? You never said anything about that!"

"Not to you, Kei-kun. You weren't present at the time. Motoko-san and Mutsumi-san, however, can confirm that I gave certain individuals one final warning. One of them isn't here, one of them has already pushed her luck, and one of them……" Haruka turned around again slowly to stare at Mitsune, who was suddenly staring back at her with huge, horrified eyes. "……One of them has just seen her luck run out." Once again silence filled the room, but this one different. Instead of shock, this one was filled with dread.

"Haruka-san, what are you saying?" The brown-haired man asked, feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach.

"I'm saying that, as of this moment, Mitsune Konno is no longer a resident of the Hinata-sou."

For the third time in as many minutes, silence descended.

This one, however, lasted barely a second before it was broken by a horrified yell.

"No!" All eyes descended on Mitsune, who was sat statuesque, eyes wide open in shock. It took a moment for those present to realise that it wasn't the fox's voice that had disturbed the silence.

It was Keitaro's.

"No?" Haruka span on her heel, facing her nephew down. "I'm sorry Kei-bozu, but that's not an answer I'm going to be accepting."

"But Haruka-san, she's got nowhere to sleep! It's the middle of winter, and all she's got are the clothes on her back!" The brown-haired man cried, gesturing wildly at the still falling rain lashing the windows of the Hinata-sou.

"Tough." Came the reply, as the elder Urashima folded her arms firmly once again. "You make your bed, you lie in it. And her bed is being tossed out the window."

"You can't do this….."

"I think you'll find I can. You may be the Kanrinin of this place, but I've been dealing with the finances for a long time now. And I've hardly seen a yen from her for six months." Haruka rounded on the quivering silver-haired girl, eyes narrowing. "So not only do I have the desire to sling her out, I also have the legal right." The brown-haired lady fished a cigarette from her pocket, and lit it in one smooth motion. "Just be glad, Konno-san, that my kind-hearted nephew is on your side. If not, I'd have had no hesitation calling the police and reporting the theft of thirty-thousand yen, along with a handy tip-off as to where they should start looking for it."

"……." Mitsune looked through blurry eyes at the assembled company, seeing pity and sadness in each gaze, but unable to take any warmth from them.

"Haruka-san, please….." Haruka huffed quietly at her 'nephew's' pleading tone.

"Save it, Kei-bozu." The tall woman exhaled a plume of smoke, before returning her attention to the ashen-faced girl still sat at the table. "Still here, Konno-san?" At the sound of her name Mitsune bit back a sob, before bowing her head in resignation. Slowly, the girl that was once known as the silver fox pushed her chair backwards, eyes dark and wretched as the hostile winter night she was about to be cast out into. As she tensed tremulous legs and began to stand, she suddenly found a firm hand on her shoulder pinning her to her seat.

"Sit down, Kitsune-san." Keitaro said calmly, brown gaze fixed on his aunt.

"Kei-bozu, she's leaving." Haruka growled around her cigarette, eyes still fixed on Mitsune.

"No. She isn't." Came the reply, in a hard tone that none of the girls had ever heard the mild-mannered Kanrinin use before.

"Unless you weren't listening, I said she's no longer got a room." The tall hostess finally let her sight land on her 'nephew'. "This means she can't stay here. I'm not having her littering up the living room like it's her personal camp site."

"Then she's staying in my room." Keitaro stated firmly, ignoring a startled gasp from the girl still in his grasp. "I didn't know there was anything like a 'last warning', and if I did I'd have dealt with this mess without bothering you, Haruka-san."

"Kei-bozu, you're just being ridiculous." Ground Haruka, hands beginning to clench. "How can you stand by someone who's stolen something from you, someone who's brazenly milking your goodwill and using it to drink herself to death? I said I wouldn't stand for it any more, and I'm not."

"To throw her out like this would be cruel."

"I think it would be just what she deserves. What she needs, maybe. To show her that life isn't a free ride, and that sometimes you have to take responsibility for your actions." The slim woman glared at Keitaro, who returned the glare without a flinch. "Let her go, Kei-bozu. Let the silly little vixen meet the real world, where life isn't free. Where, if you do something wrong, you get taken to a nice friendly jail and become someone's bitch for six months. Where, if you set someone up for a fall, they don't have the fortune to be semi-immortal." The tone, somewhere between mocking and furious, caused Keitaro's ire to slowly rise.

"What's gotten into you, Haruka-san?"

"Into me?! I reckon I'm the only one here living in reality! For fuck's sake, she's used you for the last however many years, and now you're blindly giving her all that's left!" Haruka placed her hands on her hips, voice rising. "If you're gonna be so damn blind, someone else has to see the real picture. And she doesn't belong in it."

"I think she does. And since I'm the Kanrinin around here, I have the right to let her stay in my room. If she wants." Mitsune shuddered slightly as the attention off all those around the table fixed on her once again.

"Well then, little fox? Are you going to hide behind your kind but deluded Kanrinin here and freeload your way along like you always have?" Haruka snarled, almost baring her teeth at the quailing girl.

For a few seconds Mitsune actually considered taking Haruka up on her challenge. On getting up and walking out of the door, striding away with her head held high.

The rattling of the window panes and the drumming of semi-frozen water upon them halted that idea before it even had the chance to move.

If she stayed, she'd forever be in the man's debt. Not like she wasn't already, or even that she minded being there. But he'd done so much for her already, whether he knew it or not. And not just by being a cash cow, or an easy mark. He'd been there for her when he was needed. He'd been a friend.

She loved him.

Besides, Mitsune knew deep down she'd never make it on her own. Walking out into that freezing winter's night would leave her homeless, jobless, lifeless. Nowhere to go, no-one to help her. She could make it to Naru's, but what when Naru chose to return to the Hinata-sou?

Suddenly, the world seemed a very large, very cold place.

A place that would kill her, sure as death follows life, should she walk out now.

"Well?" The fox timidly looked up into the narrow brown eyes of Haruka, who was waiting for her answer like a kettle just moments from boiling. "Are you going to break the habit of a lifetime?"

Mitsune took a deep breath, only to find her throat had seized, whether out of fear or relief she wasn't sure. In the end she meekly shook her silver-maned head minutely, reaching up to grip on Keitaro's hands as if hanging onto them for her life.

Which, in a way, she was.

"Christ." The tall lady straightened up slowly, and fished a cigarette butt from her mouth. "Well, on your head be it, Kei-bozu. On your head be it."

"I know. She's my responsibility now." Keitaro replied solemnly, nodding.

"I'm glad you realise that." Haruka muttered under her breath, stubbing the lit half-cigarette on the floor out with her foot. Annoyed to have wasted one of her tobacco sticks, the hostess of the Hinata tea shop lit up again with the swiftness of one who really, really needs a smoke. "Because if she pulls any more of this crap, you're guilty by extension. And, relative or not, you know I take that kind of thing very seriously. Correct, Kei-bozu?"

"Yes, Haruka-san." The pair eyed one another carefully, before the normally stoic lady huffed slightly. Drawing her coat more tightly around her, Haruka turned and strode towards the door. As she reached it, she gave one last disgusted glare at Mitsune over her shoulder, before addressing Keitaro in a bored tone.

"Oh, and we might be out of coffee for a while. So no point in dropping by for one for, oh, at least a month. Right, Kei-bozu?" Without waiting for a reply the older lady stepped out into the still pouring rain, pulling the door tightly behind her.

As she stormed down the stairs, Haruka would have loved to curse her soft-hearted nephew, but found herself unable to really do so with any venom.

Yes, Mitsune deserved to be evicted. And yes, she was mad that the fox was getting off scot-free.

But to rail at Keitaro for being the idiotic, loveable twit he always had been?

It just wasn't in her to do it.

Haruka growled again under her breath, realising she would need to find some way of working off her frustrations. The last time she'd felt like this she'd gone through six tea sets before the sound of china shattering stopped sounding the finest music.

So what to do to work off a bit of excess stress?

"Ah, Haruka. You're back. Any problems?" Seta smiled around his cigarette, before pausing mid-puff. There was something predatory in his wife's eyes, something that thrilled and scared him in equal measure.

"Nothing you can't help me with……" As the languid archaeologist opened his mouth to ask what, Haruka made words unnecessary by showing him _exactly_ what.

Seta had always been taught not to speak with his mouth full.

The bespectacled man was about to learn that an annoyed Haruka Urashima was also a passionate Haruka Urashima.

She taught him the lesson for quite some time that night, and some of the morning as well.

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Dinner wasn't so much a quiet affair as just plain mute. Mitsune had, unsurprisingly, decided that the scrutiny she was receiving was too much and had vanished to shift what she could into Keitaro's room. The Kanrinin, who initially had gone upstairs to help Mitsune move in, had returned to the table and was sat apparently enjoying his dinner.

Most of which fell from shaking chopsticks onto various parts of him and surrounding furniture, and on one occasion onto Sara's head.

It said a lot about the atmosphere that she had merely picked the lump of chicken off her previously blonde hair without a word of complaint.

And ate it.

Shinobu was obviously horrified, although Motoko was unsure whether it was due to the state of her still cherished Kanrinin, the wasted food or the amount of cleaning that was going to be necessary after the meal.

It wasn't until Keitaro had complimented Shinobu on the delicious meal, wiped his hands on a napkin and vanished off up the stairs that anyone had the bravery to speak.

"Ara, ara." No prizes for guessing who spoke first.

"Yes. That was quite unexpected, was it not?" Motoko said calmly, placing her dish to one side.

"I didn't know Kei had it in him to go up against Haruka." Picking up her own plate, Mutsumi stood and began collecting the others scattered around the table. "I think he surprised her, judging by how she bit her cigarette in half."

"I believe he surprised himself. I must also take this as a confirmation that Haruka has full intention of carrying out the threats she made against myself and Naru also. Perhaps it would be best if I placed the Hina blade somewhere out of reach whilst I am in residence." The tall swordswoman mused aloud.

"Not carry your katana?" Sara ran over to the window, and peered out intently. "Hmmmm…..Hang on, I think I there's four horsemen coming over the horizon….."

"Ah, don't be so sarcastic Sara-chan." The mahogany-eyed Okinawan chided gently, carrying a large pile of plates into the kitchen and loading them onto the Wishy-washy two-point-two.

"Heh, thought I'd see airborne bacon before Motoko-san gave up her weapon." The blond American chirped, obviously finding the idea amusing. "'sides, without our resident swordswoman packing a blade, who's gonna keep the dork in line?"

"Sara-chan, unless you remember, it was 'keeping the dork in line' which has placed me on the precipice." Motoko replied calmly.

"And, I'm afraid to say, I agree with Haruka-san on that score." Mitsune slipped out of the kitchen again, re-taking her seat at the table. "After seeing the effects, I simply don't believe that violence can possibly achieve anything. Not that I'm saying you should give up the sword, Motoko-san, but I feel it has a time and a place….."

"Very few of either any more, Mutsumi-san." Motoko replied solemnly, fingers almost lovingly stroking the saya of her weapon. "Aside from training and formal challenges from fellow artists, there is little place for the katana in everyday life now……" The girl trailed off, staring blankly into the middle distance. "To the point where I begin to wonder if the life of the martial artist is worth the endless stream of blood and tears it takes as its price……"

"Ara, Motoko-san….." The three girls stared at the seemingly unaware swords mistress as her olive gaze softened slightly, the hint of a tear briefly appearing before they hardened once again, Motoko's steely self-control re-asserting itself.

"Auuuu, this is all too confusing. Why did Kei go so far for Kitsune?" Shinobu asked openly. "It's not like I want her to go or anything, she's hardly my favourite person for all the times she got Keitaro clobbered, but all the same?"

"I don't know, Shinobu-ch….san. Maybe he feels more for her than he lets on….." The raven-haired girl trailed off again as a contemplative silence overtook the table. Although in slightly different ways, all of the residents were thinking the same thing.

_Would he do the same for me?_

The clearing of a throat broke the picture, and the four at the table turned to see the man in question at the top of the stairs.

With blankets and pillow in hand.

"Kei?" Shinobu had asked enquiringly as he descended the steps, before strolling over to the large couch and depositing his things on them. When done, the man turned to regard the other residents with a winsome chuckle, hand reaching it's embarrassed way up to scratch the back of his brown-haired head.

"Yes, Shinobu?"

"What are you doing?"

"Uh, well, I'd have thought that was obvious." Keitaro gestured with his now empty hands. "I'm making my bed."

"Why?" Sara piped up, curious.

"Well, I'd have thought that was pretty, uh, obvious." The resident Kanrinin smiled gently, whilst taking a half step backwards. "Kitsune is sleeping in my room."

"So?"

"Well, I'm the resident pervert, right? It wouldn't be a good idea to sleep in the same room as Mitsune. Who knows what I could potentially get up to……Naru would kill me for sure, warning or not……" While the other four residents reacted with something between disbelief and annoyance, Mutsumi frowned ever so slightly.

Keitaro was lying.

It might have been the slightly too nervous look, or the fact his fingers stopped scratching the back of his head just briefly. And, judging by the other reactions, everyone else had missed it.

"Oh, come now Keitaro. You know very well that none of us here suspect you of such things any longer." Motoko smiled, shaking her black-haired head in amusement. "And, even if Naru were to return and accuse such things, I believe it is time that she learned better also."

"You're going to sleep on the settee?" Shinobu said, aghast.

"Yep. Pretty much sums it up." Came the easy reply.

"Well, uhm…." Shinobu faltered as her own slightly troubled history with Keitaro came to mind, but them ploughed on with considerable determination. "Kei, I know that it'd be awkward, but please sleep in my room!" The violet-ette's cheeks reddened, but it didn't stop her talking. "It doesn't have to be the bed, it can be the chair like last time, well not like last time since I'll not be sleeping with you, not unless you want me to, well, ah, uhm….." It was at this point, with Keitaro making frantic shushing gestures and Motoko raising one eloquent eyebrow, that Shinobu realised that perhaps she should have stopped at 'my room'.

"Like last time, Urashima-san?" Motoko raised the other eyebrow. "Sleeping with you, Urashima-san?" Slim fingers danced towards the handle of her katana whilst Keitaro watched, mesmerised by fear.

"Uh, i-it was nothing like that Motoko-san! Nothing happened I swear!" The man gibbered, backing up slowly.

Motoko simply sighed.

"Come now, Keitaro. I'd have thought that you would have understood by now; you have nothing to fear from me." She said clamly, dropping her hand limp to her side. "In any case, I would extend the same offer myself if it weren't for the fact I already know your answer." Keitaro nodded in reply, a small smile inching onto his face.

"It's much appreciated, Motoko."

"You can sleep in my room, Keitaros! I'll draw up a hammock ready for you!" Su cheered, already unfurling a web of knotted string from one of her non-existent sleeves.

Uh, I think I'll stay out here Su. It's not a good idea for me to share anyone's room." Keitaro said blandly, unrolling his blanket upon the settee. "Let's face facts, we're all adults. And apart from me, everyone's a girl. I've got enough of a reputation already." The man placed his pillow on one end of the settee, before shoving the blankets to the opposite end and sitting upright in the middle of the plush cushions. "I think I'm going to watch some television, then go and have a bath. Anyone who wants to see the news is welcome to join me."

At the suggestion of watching the news Shinobu decided she needed to make sure the Wishy washy two-point-two was working properly, Sara sited a need to wash her hair and Su simply said she was bored. Motoko seemed divided for a moment, but then decided a soak in the hot springs was a good idea.

Mutsumi took a seat beside Keitaro.

For a long time the pair watched the news, happily debating the pros and cons of having vigilante pervert-spotting crews on busy trains, and why on earth rock stars thought that _that _hair style was something approaching fashionable.

After over half an hour, Mutsumi turned to look at Keitaro. As the ex-ronin's attention rapidly returned to her, she asked the question that had been on her mind since the brown-haired man's re-appearance at the dinner table.

"Kei, what happened upstairs?"

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It was quite late at night. Somewhere between ten in the evening and midnight, by best estimate.

This didn't bother Motoko at all, after all, night was merely a time with less natural light. She had been taught earlier in life how to navigate and travel in the darkest of situations, even ones where no light of any kind existed. Hence, the lack of light didn't bother her in the slightest.

What bothered Motoko was what she was about to do.

It wasn't a decision that she had come across lightly. It wasn't a choice made on a whim, or a prayer. In the past, the swords mistress would have contacted someone, her sister possibly, were she feeling unsure of what she had to do.

But now she was sure, certain as maybe she had never been before.

The staircase seemed almost endless, albeit only seen through the pattering of raindrops and the echoing of footsteps. Motoko drew her dark travel cape around her tightly, feeling mixed emotions at the sensation of the Hina blade nestling against her thigh. Deciding to ignore her troubled thoughts the girl forged stubbornly onward, intent on reaching her goal.

After several minutes she reached the Hinata tea house, and viewed it's blank windows and silent doors with some trepidation.

The trepidation eased somewhat as Motoko heard a high-pitched female voice emanating from the apparently deserted locale, one the swords mistress was sure Haruka would be resident in.

After a quiet knock and several minutes of patient waiting, someone came to the door.

Someone male.

After convincing Seta that she desired the attention of someone else, Motoko experienced another period of silent waiting until Haruka approached the doorway. Looking really quite annoyed, and also quite sweaty (something Motoko assigned to stress). Over several minutes, Motoko explained her situation and her feelings to Haruka, while she listened.

Once Motoko had finished, the slim owner of the Hinata-sou tea shop agreed with her. And was willing to assist the Heir to the Shinmei ryu in any way necessary.

As Motoko left, feeling lighter than she could ever remember, she didn't allow herself to really think about the decision she had made.

It made it easier to ignore the fact that her life had changed forever...

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Well, chapter 13 done.

I was going to put the Mitsune eviction at the end, and stop at the point where Haruka announced her decision. But I think I would have been stoned to pieces for the cliffie, and it just seemed to fit in where it did nicely.

Anyhow, that's all for now. Chapter 14 sees someone familiar re-entering the mix...

'till next time!

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	14. Chapter 14

It's been a bit of time, but the next chapter is here at last.

I'm not going to make many comments, just thanks to all those who reviewed and especially those who PM'd me with their support.

I've kept everyone long enough, so on with the show.

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Repercussions – Chapter 14

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Keitaro stepped into his room, glancing around at the change in décor with mild irritation. Instead of plain wooden walls, only accompanied by the occasional plain teak furniture item which jutted out around the room, there was already an occasional anime-influenced wall scroll stuck to the wall with blu-tack or sticky tape. Upon the chest of drawers sat an array of bottles – empty or full, the man was both unsure and uncaring. His normal study table and maroon-cushioned stool were shoved into a corner, the books which had been sat upon them stacked sloppily to one side.

Even the window looked scruffy.

In any other room in the Hinata-sou, it wouldn't even be called a mess. But in Keitaro's comparatively sparse abode, it was as if a hurricane had hit it.

The worst part was the floor. A black suitcase sat wide open in the middle of it, filled to the brim with red, white and black lacy items that would cause potentially fatal light-headedness in the right situation. Various garments were also showered randomly around the room, as if the suitcase had detonated thanks to the pressure of an entire catalogue collection of lingerie. As Keitaro unhooked what appeared to be a pair of triangles connected by string from the door handle, the irritation changed to foreboding.

Obviously, when he'd told Mitsune to 'make herself at home' she hadn't taken his words with even a grain of salt, let alone a pinch.

Speaking of which, where was she?

Keitaro almost called out her name, but felt stupid at even having the idea. She had to be in the room somewhere, and it wasn't as if you could get lost in a room, right?

Excepting Su's, obviously. Or your name happened to be Ryouga.

Instead, the man took a couple of steps into the room and slid the door shut behind him, before running an exasperated hand through his mousy brown hair. Sure, he'd expected Mitsune to make some kind of impression on what was now her space as well as his, but she'd pretty much turned the place into a duplicate of her own abode. Well, her ex-abode. Sweeping his eyes to the left, Keitaro grimaced as his sight landed on a sheaf of crumpled and disorganised papers which would undoubtedly become a surrogate carpet within minutes. The grimace descended into a frown as he eyed another array of bottles clustered in the only spare corner left, most of which were obviously full.

It seemed that Mitsune perhaps wasn't learning her lesson quite as he'd hoped…..

"Sheez, it's dark in here!" A muffled voice to his right attracted Keitaro's attention, and his brown eyes fell upon a very shapely behind clad in very tight jeans that was protruding slightly from the bottom of his closet. At any other time he might have taken the opportunity for a bit of guilty enjoyment at the view, but the Kanrinin was just not in the mood. Something that, when Mitsune popped her head out of the closet only seconds later, she managed to completely miss.

"Kei-kun!" The silver-haired girl paused for a moment, assessing the relative positions of the two, before breaking out in a slightly odd grin. "Hmmmm, like what you see, sugar?"

"Kitsune-san….." The fox, either through blind delight or blind drunkenness, managed to completely miss the warning in the tone.

"'Cause if you do, there's plenty more where that came from. Lots and lots more….." Mitsune hauled herself to her feet, staggering slightly as she did so. Once up, the pair looked at one another with very different expressions. The tipsy girl gazed upon the man before her with a combination of lust and infatuation, appearing less a twenty-something lady than a starry-eyed teen meeting her idol for the very first time. The grin upon her face was far too big for the mouth which bore it, and her irises tingled with a hint of madness.

Keitaro looked back with a face carved from ice.

"Y'know Kei, don't mind if I call ya that do ya, but ya really saved my bacon down there." The fox purred, advancing half a step. "An' I reckon I owe ya big time. Trust me on this one sugar, its one debt I plan on payin' in full. With bonuses an' all." The lack of response didn't dissuade the girl, whose fingers worked their way to the hem of her figure-hugging black top, before gripping it and hoisting it over her head without even the tiniest hesitation. Mitsune took another step towards Keitaro, applying one of her most seductive smiles and unsubtly thrusting her chest in the brown-haired man's direction.

"Mitsune-san, what's all this?" Was the only response she got, accompanied by a slow gesture that took in the whole of the room.

"Just makin' myself at home, like you said." She drawled, trembling fingers reaching for and fiddling with the waistband of her jeans.

"And what about those?" Keitaro added quietly, this time pointing straight at the assortment of bottles sat in the corner of the room. The silken rustling of disrobing didn't seem to affect the man in the least. Completely undeterred, Mitsune continued her slow advance, eyes narrowing as she fixed on the prize.

"Ah, a girl can't just abandon her stash y'know. We'd sure be lonely without each other….." A tiny 'click' that would normally cause the resident Kanrinin to faint echoed through the room with dangerous finality. Whilst Keitaro uncaringly stared at the sake stash Mitsune, with a complete absence of grace, removed and stepped out of her last item of clothing. Moving right into Keitaro's personal space, the grey fox draped a lazy arm around his shoulders and pressed against him. "So, Kei. You want to call in some o' that debt? 'Cause I sure am ready and willin' to pay it back….."

"…..Have you even listened to a word anyone has said, Mitsune-san?" The chilly tone finally penetrated Mitsune's happy bubble, and a hint of puzzlement began to emerge in the girl's grey eyes.

"O' course I have, sugar. Tha's why I'm here with you, right?" A tiny shake of the head was the response, followed by a resigned sigh.

"You haven't taken anything in, have you?" The silver-haired girl pondered the statement for a few seconds, before shrugging mentally. If there was a point around, she was certainly missing it. Well, no bother, if it was important she would certainly find out sooner or later.

"Ah, enough of the talkin' Kei. Now c'mon, won't ya join me?" When she began tugging Keitaro towards the futon, Mitsune had expected at the most token resistance. What she wasn't prepared for was to be spun around so she was face to face with the mahogany-eyed man. Who, for the first time that she could remember, looked genuinely scary.

"Why? Do you think that'll make everything all right? You think that's all I defended you for?" The man grasped Mitsune's pale and skinny arm tightly as she tried to retreat, her expression the definition of surprise. "Damn it Mitsune, what do you think you're doing?! You just got thrown out of your room, and nearly the house because of this shit!" Keitaro jerked a thumb at the bottles huddled accusingly in the corner. "Drinking!" The thumb was retracted, and a stiff finger pointed at her. "Throwing yourself around like a shameless slut!" For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, the narrow-eyed girl felt a hint of shame at her brazen behaviour.

"But Kei……"

"But nothing! I gave you a second chance, Mitsune-san. And now…..I'm beginning to regret it." Keitaro finished coldly, trying to conceal how much the words hurt to say. Judging by the way the girl still in his grasp sagged down to her knees, the feeling was mutual for the one hearing them.

"Ya mean…..I'm gonna be kicked out after all?" Came the question in a tiny voice, barely more than a whimper.

"No….." The bespectacled man dropped the ensnared wrist, and paced quietly over to the still-made futon. A few moments later Mitsune felt a pile of fabric drop into her lap, and looked up to see Keitaro holding the other end of the blanket, eyes carefully averted. "Cover yourself up. We're going to have a little chat." With that he rested his back against the wall, before sliding down it slowly into a sitting position. Mitsune hurriedly wrapped herself in the warm and slightly scented bundle, suddenly realising how cold being naked in the depths of winter could actually be.

The pair rested in silence for a moment, Mitsune swathed in maroon linen and peering at Keitaro, who was sat with his head tilted back and eyes closed. Just when the lodger was about to speak, her manager beat her to it.

"Mitsune-san, do you get a kick out of all this?"

"All this what, Kei?"

"That's Keitaro-san for now, Mitsune-san." Keitaro replied sharply, before continuing in a much calmer tone. "I mean drinking enough for a whole hen night on your lonesome. Flaunting yourself to try and get what you want. Making promises you don't intend to keep, taking loans you don't plan to repay." Whilst Mitsune sputtered impotently, caught between denial and grief, the man allowed his deep brown eyes to open and look up at the ceiling. "Tell me, Mitsune-san. When I stepped in to keep you here, why do you think I did it?"

"Um….." Potential answers ran though her head, but even with the intoxication still on board the grey fox could still see that none of them were good ones. 'Because you're too nice' was nothing short of simpering, whilst 'because you like me' seemed to be just plain fantasy. In the end Keitaro answered the question for her.

"It was because we're all you have left." The lightly-built man got slowly to his feet and began pacing back and forth before Mitsune, all the while talking in a slightly-too-quiet voice. "I know you have nowhere to go. And I don't want you to leave either, because despite it all…..I……you're one of my best friends. I can't imagine life without you." The man paused, the footfalls upon the bare wooden floor halting for a few short seconds.

"Kei-kun….." Mitsune breathed, forgetting the earlier admonishment as hope began to blossom in her chest.

"But then….." Hope that withered again as Keitaro's tone became chilly once again. "…..Then, I come into my room to find out it's not mine any more. To find that you're fully intending to go back to the cell you've been rotting in. To find that you're throwing yourself at the once almost-fiancé of your best friend, in the belief that it'll make everything right. Well I'm sorry Mitsune-san. Things are a long, long way from right. And a couple of sweaty trysts aren't going to change anything, except make us both even guiltier."

"But…..I do want it. I didn't mean it as just a bit of fun or as payment, not really. I want you, Kei-kun….." Mitsune felt water welling up in her eyes as Keitaro, still staring resolutely at the ceiling, shook his head slowly.

"I can't pretend you're not attractive, Mitsune-san. But keep doing what you're doing and I'll just end up looking like a fool. I won't even say how it'll make you look, because I'm sure you know." At the blunt comment the grey-haired girl let out a gasp that turned into a sob, before casting her gaze down to the floor. As she watched, a small pair of feet came to a stop before her, and there was a moment of quiet before Keitaro's voice came again, softer than ever.

"This isn't Kitsune-chan kneeling in the middle of my room. It's someone else, someone who's taken the fun party-girl away and replaced her with a stranger. Someone who lies, steals, drinks and prostitutes herself purely because she can." The voice hitched for a moment, before continuing with still deeper emotion. "I liked the old Kitsune-chan a lot. The person that's here with me now…..I can't even look at. And I won't, not until the old Kitsune comes back." With that the feet stepped around her, and paced over to the closet. The rustling of blankets followed, before the sound of footfalls began again, this time heading towards the door. Panicking, Mitsune called out as loudly as she could, determined to stop the man leaving.

"Kei-kun, please, don't go….." The feet paused at the choked plea, before a rough male voice replied.

"You can have the futon, Mitsune-san. I'll take the sofa." A door slid open, a barely audible 'goodnight' drifted into the fox's ears, and the door slid shut again.

Alone in the room, Mitsune peered blurrily at her surroundings. She had to bite back a sob as she took in the now abandoned futon, but couldn't stop her eyes from overflowing once they rested upon a photograph album that sat idly on Keitaro's chest of drawers. On a whim the girl picked it up and leafed through the reams of photo-booth pictures, until her wet grey orbs rested on one in particular. One that she couldn't remember being taken, but one that stirred old feelings.

A picture of herself and Keitaro, both wearing cheesy grins, staring happily at the camera.

Gazing at it fondly, Mitsune couldn't help but wonder how things had come to this. The only thing the grey fox was certain of was that she couldn't see things ever being the same again.

So she held the picture to her chest, and waited for sleep that never seemed to come.

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"I don't know. I didn't want to snap at her, but I couldn't see what else to do." Keitaro trailed off, eyes still staring blankly at the screen before him. For several long seconds Mutsumi looked at him, tucking her skirt-clad legs beneath her carefully and adjusting her position on the sofa to one that was more comfortable. The man beside her was beginning to concern her – his expression was relatively calm, but on Keitaro's face calmness looked foreign. He had never, ever been good at concealing emotions. Scars yes, but not emotions.

The Okinawan knew the man inside and out, and knew that being too calm was never a good sign. The only occasion she could remember it happening before was during the whole mess with Naru.

And look at how that turned out.

Deciding not to press for details, Mutsumi turned to regard the television again, noting that at some point the news had finished and a distinctly unfunny sitcom had appeared on the screen. At that moment in time, one of the actors was thwacked by another holding a harisen whilst canned laughter echoed ineffectually through the television's speakers.

Mutsumi decided she didn't find it remotely amusing.

The show continued in much the same vein for what seemed like hours, but in truth could have been nothing more than twenty minutes. Not a word was passed, or eye contact made. The brown-haired pair simply watched the dire slapstick with faces that didn't even threaten to crack a smile, let alone laugh. Eventually, as the credits rolled the identities of the guilty parties across the screen, a quiet voice broke the silence.

"I think you did the right thing, Kei."

"Hmmmm?" Keitaro replied intelligently, mind clearly elsewhere.

"I don't think you could have done anything else." Mutsumi continued, dark eyes still fixed resolutely on the television. "I would have been terrible to throw Kitsune out in this, and I'm still having a hard time believing that Haruka was serious. But all the same, she needed to be told that enough was enough. And she needed to be told by someone that she would actually listen to." The girl could sense Keitaro turning to face her, but didn't react. As she didn't want to look him in the eye when she answered the inevitable question.

Which arrived right on cue.

"Why would Kitsune listen to me?"

"Because she likes you, Kei. And yes, I _do_ mean like in that way." Mutsumi tried to ignore the burning in her chest, one she had felt too many times before. The one that made her want to scream that the world wasn't fair, that she shouldn't have to stand by and watch.

But Mutsumi being Mutsumi, she sat stoically and let things take their course.

"She…..does?" Came a thoughtful voice, one that sounded only slightly surprised. "Maybe that's why she's been so, well, aggressive lately……" The Okinawan remained impassive, still gazing intently at the screen. If you had asked her what was on it she wouldn't have been able to say, but it was better than the other option.

"Maybe." She replied vaguely. For several long seconds, the pair sat in thoughtful silence.

Mutsumi almost jumped when she felt something warm touch her hand. Finally turning to face the man beside her she couldn't help but smile as she saw a slightly larger hand perched atop hers.

"Thanks, Mutsumi." Keitaro murmured, a small grin upon his lips. "I knew I could rely on you. You're a good friend to me, and I appreciate it." With that the man pushed himself up from his seat, the sofa sighing audibly in relief as he did so, before heading for the stairs. The brown-haired lady barely registered his stated intention to take a bath, being too fixated on his previous words.

'You're a good friend to me…..'

Mutsumi sighed gently before shifting her legs from beneath her and rising slowly to her feet, ignoring the pins and needles that ran up and down them like electric currents.

'You're a good friend to me…..'

Stretching out the muscles that were complaining at her inactivity the mahogany-eyed girl pondered how on earth it had come to pass that, despite the constantly shifting currents that ran through the Hinata-sou, she seemingly remained the one island of calm.

How she wished, day after day, that it wasn't the case.

Sighing once more, Mutsumi eased over to the stairs, deciding to spend the evening studying. However, deep down she knew it was futile. Only one thing would be occupying her mind that night.

And it wouldn't be work.

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Kanako Urashima was a worried woman.

This was unusual. Normally, her resolve was so strong it could be used to build tanks. But the last few days had seen a hint of rust begin to eat away at her iron will.

Mitsune may have been caustic, but she had managed to point out several things that the youngest Urashima had been trying with all her might to ignore. Such as the fact that never, in all the time she could remember, had her half-brother displayed even the merest hint of interest at her advances. The more the black-haired girl had looked back at things, the more obvious it became that Keitaro had not the slightest idea what exactly she was getting at.

And the last visit…..

The last visit had been the worst. No longer was there a lack of response. Instead, the feedback Kanako had received was all negative. From the moment she had sat down next to her oniisan, she could feel the apprehension rolling off the man in waves. When she had actually tried to advance her affections, the apprehension changed to straightforward revulsion.

At the time the girl had either been far too desperate or blind to see it. Hindsight, however, was always flawless.

Kanako shifted uneasily, holding her black umbrella stiffly above her head. Whilst rain pattered relentlessly onto it and then down into the puddles at her feet, the girl gazed unblinkingly at the front door of the Hinata-sou.

It was early, dawn barely lightening the overcast sky to the south-east. Kanako sincerely doubted that anyone was awake, even she wouldn't be if it weren't for her mission. When grandma Hina had announced her intention to leave for China, the dark-eyed Urashima had had her mind made up. She would have to go her oniisan and pin him down, and actually find out one way or another.

But her seemingly endless courage had failed her. Hence she was stood motionless at the top of the waterfall that was the Hinata-sou staircase, trying to summon it once again.

Without success. Because deep down she knew it was utterly pointless.

All the answers the young lady needed were already there. If she was being completely honest with herself she had known for some time, even before her latest return. She had just wanted to be wrong, wanted to be wrong really badly. All the while understanding on some level that what the fox had said to her only days ago was the honest truth.

And could she ever undo the past they shared?

No.

Keitaro was her brother, first and foremost. And she was his sister. That fact would never vanish, and why should it? If it wasn't the truth, she would never have known the man. There were far too many memories she didn't want to lose.

Pulling her purple coat tight around her shoulders, the youngest Urashima let out a deep breath that had been trapped inside her for years. Time to move on.

Casting one last look at the Hinata-sou, drinking in its familiar face for memories' sake, the girl slowly turned towards the seemingly endless staircase. Taking one step towards it, Kanako halted as a voice called from behind her.

"Urashima-san….." Frowning slightly, the girl craned her neck around to view the speaker.

"Yes, Aoyama-san?" She said frostily, not hiding her dislike.

"Ah, I feel I deserve that." The raven-haired swords mistress stood empty-handed in the porch of the dormitory, dressed simply in a plain white robe and slippers, looking solemn. "I have not come to fight, or argue. I have come, instead, to apologise." Kanako, curious, turned to face Motoko fully.

"Apologise?"

"Yes. I do not know why Hina-sama chose to punish only you, but it was clear that I was at least equally to blame."

"Equally?" Came the sardonic reply, accompanied by a raised eyebrow. Motoko visibly winced, but didn't lose eye contact.

"Very well. I was primarily to blame. And I offer my most sincere apologies to you." The two black-haired women gazed at one another for several moments, before Kanako shrugged.

"Ah, forget it. Hina-obasan only arrived half-way through the argument. She didn't hear you make the first threat." The youngest Urashima drew her black gloves more snugly onto her hands, looking totally unconcerned. "I didn't see the point in correcting her; it wouldn't make an ounce of difference."

"I see." For what seemed like an age, the only noise audible was that of water being extremely active. Eventually, Motoko cleared her throat. "I would also like to thank you."

"What?" This time, Kanako couldn't keep a hint of incredulity out of her tone. "Now you're starting to worry me, Aoyama-san." Or sarcasm, for that matter.

"You have helped me make a decision that I have been troubled by for many years, one that I now feel I have come to terms with. For that, I thank you Urashima-san." The heir to the Shinmei-ryu looked so earnest in her statement that the girl before her couldn't help but accept the words.

"I don't know what it is I'm supposed to have done, but your thanks are accepted all the same." The pair looked at one another for a moment longer, this time with a hint of respect.

"I am grateful, Urashima-san." Motoko paused for a moment, gazing up into the heavy and brooding sky. "So, in return…..is there a message you wish me to pass on to Keitaro?" Kanako herself glanced up at the leaden clouds, wishing that there was some kind of profound statement that could sum things up in one fell swoop.

Real life is rarely so simple.

"Just say that I popped by, but he was still asleep. And tell him…..I'll see him again sometime soon." The girl eventually stated, before twirling on the spot and beginning a quick descent of the staircase. All the while cursing the rain which, despite her umbrella, still found its way to her face.

Motoko watched the disappearing back without emotion, before turning and slipping through the door silently to avoid disturbing the slumbering Kanrinin who was snoring upon the settee. Noting his unconsciousness the slim lady took the chance to let her olive eyes wander, taking in ruffled mousy brown hair, a marked and scarred face and day-old stubble adorning the upper lip and chin of the sleeping man. And once again found herself wondering what it was that drew everyone to him, like moths to a flame.

It certainly wasn't his manly physique, the swordswoman mused. It wasn't his choice in fashion either, she mentally added, eyeing the bright red socks poking out of the far end of the blanket with distaste. So what was it?

"Oh, good morning Motoko." A drowsy voice alerted her that the man she was inspecting was now awake, and also quite aware of the fact. Being caught mid-look was not something she had been expecting, as the rapid reddening of her face attested to.

"M-morning Keitaro." Motoko stuttered, embarrassed. Glancing up, the young lady felt something jump in her chest as she caught sight of the sleepy smile Keitaro was favouring her with.

_That_ was what it was. That indecipherable thing which drew her to him. She couldn't put a name on it, but it was there.

Caught up in her thoughts, Motoko didn't even notice that at some point Keitaro had drifted back off to sleep and had resumed his rhythmic snoring. Giving him one last look, the young lady had to fight the urge to do something very un-Motoko-like right then and there. Instead, she settled for running her slim fingers through the mop of brown hair adorning the sleeping man's head before turning on her heel and striding towards the wooden staircase.

Might as well get some studying done before breakfast.

--

--

The next few days passed relatively peacefully.

That is to say Keitaro had only two near-death experiences, both involving a variety of Su's contraptions. One resulted in an extension to his prescribed period of ointment application, and the second proved that not only did the wishy-washy series not like water, but it was also prone to overheating and exploding into flames if the room temperature reached thirty degrees. Su had taken the failure with her typical cheerful acceptance, and proceeded to vanish into her room along with Sara and the charred remains of her latest project. Later the same day the fridge also mysteriously vanished, much to Shinobu's consternation.

The other residents managed to retrieve the rather useful kitchen appliance the next day and restore it to its rightful place, but given that it had spent a night in Su's room everyone was now too scared to open it.

Shinobu was focussing on her studies, although she was finding it difficult to concentrate. While the girl hadn't given up completely on Keitaro, she still found things a little too fresh in her mind to go seeking his assistance on difficult problems. There was also quite a lot of staring into space and pen chewing going on, resulting in a mouth that matched her hair colour.

Mitsune no-one had heard a word from. It seemed that she had holed herself up in her adopted room and had set to demolishing the remainder of her sake collection, in the view that there was nothing else to do. No-one had been into the room since that night, and as far as anyone knew the fox hadn't left. Everyone who had tried to make contact had at best received silence or snores, and at worst…..well, Sara was severely reprimanded by Motoko for using her newly expanded vocabulary over dinner one evening.

The youngest Aoyama had spent most of the time honing her knowledge, although Mutsumi had commented that she didn't think it was possible for her to actually get better. To which the raven-haired lady had replied that number two in the nation meant there was still room for improvement.

It's difficult to argue with that kind of logic.

Additionally, there was something slightly wrong with the heir to the Shinmei-ryu. Well, not wrong really, just something…..not quite right. Out of place, perhaps. While it had nagged at all of the residents over the previous few days, no-one had been able to put their finger on it.

Until Shinobu did during dinner, three days after Mitsune's eviction and subsequent reprieve.

"Motoko-san, I've been meaning to ask. Where's your sword?" Mutsumi and Keitaro performed a double-take as they realised that the violet-haired girl was correct. Motoko was unarmed, her katana conspicuously absent.

"I have left it with Haruka." The svelte young lady primly swept a stray strand of ebony hair behind her ear, seemingly more interested in her rice than the conversation. "Given the events of the recent past, I felt it prudent to emphasise my desire to do no further harm. Whilst Mitsune-san's downfall was inevitable, I do not believe Haruka would have any patience with anyone who dares to cross the line after this point."

The bland statement was followed by silence as those present considered the words carefully (or in Sara and Su's case as they scoffed their dinner) before Mutsumi spoke up.

"Ara, so how do you plan on continuing your training, Motoko-san?" The curvaceous Okinawan asked, puzzlement visible on her honest face.

"I don't." This time, Sara and Su stopped chewing and several pairs of chopsticks clattered on the tan wooden surface of the table. For the longest time everyone just stared at the white-gowned girl, who was doing her best to appear bored by what was an earth-shaking statement.

Then, Keitaro gave a nervous chuckle.

"Oh come on Motoko. That'd be like me standing in the springs with one of you and not getting sent into low earth orbit……" The bespectacled man trailed off as he realised that, in the last few weeks, it had happened several times.

All of a sudden, no-one was laughing.

"I do not lie, Keitaro. I left my blade in the care of Haruka-san, and have no intention of wielding it again." Motoko stated blandly, olive eyes failing to meet anyone else's. Rain hummed in the background as those sat at the table tried to somehow get their heads around the sudden seismic shift. Eventually it was Shinobu who broke the silence with a tiny cough, eyes cast down as her hands smoothed creases from her long apron.

"If you don't mind me asking Motoko-san, who does that leave to take over the Shinmei-ryu? After all, your sister is only holding the title in your place at the moment." The violet-haired girl missed a momentary twitch of Motoko's mouth, one that could only be described as a grimace.

"That is a matter for another time, Shinobu-san." She replied, still managing to sound utterly nonchalant.

No-one around the table was really fooled.

"This is very sudden, Motoko-san. Why the sudden change of heart?" Mutsumi asked gently, knowing Motoko well enough to realise that an interrogation was not a good idea but unable to resist all the same.

"There is nothing sudden about it. If you recall my previous encounters with my elder sister, I have for many years failed to come to terms with my intended role in life."

"I thought you had worked things out, though….." The Okinawan replied, obviously puzzled.

Motoko sighed quietly, finally showing signs of distress.

"I thought I had, I really did. But as time goes on, I see less and less place for the way of the martial arts in modern society." She began quietly, still carefully gazing as the space between Keitaro and Sara. "I see many more potential pathways through instead pursuing my dream to follow some of you into Tokyo University. I do not wish to part ways with my art completely, but to follow it as a way of life seems…..empty." For the first time after her announcement the now-ronin met the eyes of another at the table.

Specifically a pair of deep brown eyes, belonging to the ex-ronin sat opposite.

"Also, I feel that Haruka's words have reminded me once more of an important fact. Weapons are created for one purpose, and one alone." The olive gaze swept over the numerous marks on Keitaro's face, taking in each one. "After seeing what they have done and fully understanding what they can do, I cannot allow myself to bear arms any longer. I do not wish to add any further scars to anyone, nor have the means to."

"Ara….." Mutsumi breathed, stunned by the proclamation.

"That is my decision. And I stand by it." Motoko finished, tone sedate, her expression anything but. Letting her head tilt towards the floor the girl stared at her lap and the pale hands tightly folded across it. And waited for the explosion.

"Then I do to." A tenor voice intoned from across the table. Motoko's eyes travelled slowly up again until she was peering through her raven bangs at Keitaro. Who simply grinned.

"I'm all for it." Shinobu said, nodding happily.

"If it's what you want Motoko-san, I'm right behind you." Mutsumi concurred, her own features shaping into a smile. The now ex-swordswoman then felt someone glomp her from behind as a tanned cheek pressed against her own.

"Thanks..." Motoko ground out, before hurriedly excusing herself from the table before the lump in her throat could swell any further.

"I guess pigs can fly….." Sara muttered, picking up her utensils and attacking what was left of her food despite it's less than ideal temperature. She caught a frown from Shinobu and shrugged casually. "What?"

"A life without a sword-wielding Motoko." Mutsumi mused. "Who'd have thought it?"

"Motoko wants to follow Keitaros!" Su chirruped, twirling her chopsticks with the finesse of a maestro. "'Least that's what she says when she's sleepin'. That and something about 'yes, there, right there, mmmmm, oooooh, oh my, please, not before we're married'. She says that quite a lot." With that Su began demolishing the remnants of her own dinner whilst the other four residents glanced at one another with bright red faces.

"I'm sure I could have gotten by without knowing that." Sara choked out, having inhaled half a mouthful of rice at the Molmolian's last comment.

"Ara, the worst thing is that I'm not sure if she's joking or not." Mutsumi said, a cute blush blossoming on her cheeks.

"Auuuuuuu….." Shinobu's face was simply tomato-esque as her mind processed the possibilities, many of which she'd never really considered before.

"I think I'm happier not knowing." Keitaro muttered, unsure what to make of the image that had materialised in his head but certain a nosebleed was imminent. And he would have been right, had Shinobu not suddenly sprung up from the table clutching her own nose with a muffled squeak.

"Sorry, gotta go!" She spluttered before sprinting for the stairs, crimson liquid seeping between her fingers and spattering on the wooden floor as she fled the room.

"Ara, ara." The Okinawan murmured, eyeing the droplets with curiosity. "Why does that keep happening around here?"

"You mean you don't know?" Keitaro blurted, unaware that doing so was an idea worse than blow-drying your hair whilst still sat in the bath.

"No, I don't Kei." Mutsumi replied with angelic honesty. "It happens to you a lot, maybe you can tell me why?" It was at this point the brown-haired Kanrinin realised that he had just walked into the thunderstorm brandishing a lightning rod.

"Uhm….." As his fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, his chances of the latter option were significantly reduced as Sara latched onto his right arm.

"Yeah dork! I've been trying to work this one out since like forever!" And they died completely as his left side was glomped by Su.

"Go on Keitaros! I wanna know too!" Panicking, the Tokyo-U student found the matching eyes of his fellow ex-ronin and silently begged for help.

He may as well have been asking Mitsune for a loan. The girl merely gazed back with almost tangible curiosity. Perhaps a little too much…..

At that moment in time, Keitaro could only see three possibilities.

Run – not likely with sixty kilograms of girl hanging onto him.

Faint – for once, his body hadn't seen fit to play its normal get-out card, so that was out.

Tell them – not the desirable option, but the only one remaining.

Taking a deep breath and giving fate the metaphorical finger, Keitaro set to trying to explain to a pubescent girl, an eternally naïve teenager and a very attractive woman the truth behind spontaneous nosebleeds without appearing perverted or dying of embarrassment.

Needless to say, he failed.

--

--

Mitsune tipped her head back and let the last of the liquor trickle through the bottle neck and between her dry lips. The girl blinked slowly as she regarded the now empty vessel with narrowed eyes before angrily flinging it to the floor. Thankfully it landed with a hollow 'clunk' rather than smashing into a hundred pieces, but by now the fox was beyond caring.

She wasn't sure exactly why she was angry. Yes, it was because the bottle was empty, but was she furious because there was nothing left to drink or because she had drunk it in the first place?

Every bottle she'd consumed in the last few days had been sworn to be the last. And she had meant it. But then life caught up with her, and she had found another open in her hands before she was even aware of its existence.

It had become her barrier to the world, the way to ignore all the questions she couldn't answer.

The grey fox stared at the detritus of a bender that had lasted for heaven knows how long surrounding her, and felt a deep chill settle in her stomach. How was she even alive? A Manhattan skyline of bottles lined up against the wall, as if awaiting the firing squad. A dozen different shades of glass, numerous brands from the budget to the finest and all those in between. Reaching out a pale hand Mitsune grasped a particularly ornate specimen from the collection and raised it up to the lamplight. And wondered why on earth she had thought any of this to be a good idea.

'The person who's with me now……I don't even want to look at.'

Sad words echoed in the bedraggled girl's head, and she almost found herself bringing the empty bottle to her lips in reflex. Grimacing in disgust, she let it instead slip between her fingers and clatter to the ground. How on earth had it come to this? It used to be a habit, a bad one, but nothing more than that. Just a way to pass an empty evening with a little more pleasure. Then it had extended to a way to pass an empty afternoon, and then an empty morning…..

And given that every single hour of every single day seemed to be empty……

The result?

Addiction.

Mitsune's mind reeled as the damning word whispered into her mind. She'd seen so many people during her life, people sat out on benches or in bars, people who were cradling glasses or bottles in brown paper bags like they were the holy grail of their existence. And she'd ignored them or scoffed at them, confident in the knowledge that they had brought their misfortune on themselves. Satisfied she was above their station and could never, ever sink so low.

Now she was one of them. Without a certain kind-hearted kanrinin, she would be outside right now in the wintry night, trying to find shelter. Probably clutching a cheap bottle of sake in the vain hope it would make the cold that little bit warmer. Blearily, the lank-haired figure looked down at her arms and saw goose pimples forming on her skin at only the thought.

Yet, in her heart of hearts, Mitsune couldn't say she wouldn't have deserved it. She'd had her warnings, loud and clear. Then to steal so much money without a thought…..

As if awaiting the moment, her mind began to play through her memories of the last month. Squeezing the fractured hand of a teary-eyed and wasted Naru whilst feeding the honey-haired girl her own bitterness. Spying on Keitaro and confronting him, only to find out the cost of her mischief. Taking money from the man without the intention of giving it back. When desperation set in stealing the rest of the money, only to blow it on sake. Attempting to accost Keitaro……

Mitsune's grey eyes slid over to a pile of paper heaped messily in the corner of the room, teeth worrying her lower lip. Buried in the pile were several letters, many of which were entitled 'urgent' or 'final demand'. One or two had even threatened court action, although thankfully none had followed through as yet. But all the same, the message was clear. She was in deep, deep financial trouble. Too many strikes on the ponies, too many days of sake and sun. Not enough work. Paper really had become her prison, in more ways than one. As the letters became more threatening the fox had become increasingly desperate, until she had made a plan she now regretted whole-heartedly.

A plan to seduce Keitaro. In the muddy mind of the fox, working her way into the heart of her Kanrinin would ensure he came to her aid when she needed him.

Stupid. So, so stupid.

For one, as proven a few days previously, Keitaro needed no excuse to help a friend. For two, it had made her feel cheap, wanton and had probably sullied any chance she had with the man. And for three, it would set her up against Naru, Shinobu and Mutsumi for certain, probably Motoko and possibly even Su. None of them would be remotely happy with her behaviour, and if they ever found out her motivation……

When she had stolen the rest of Keitaro's stash, she had intended to use some of it to pay off the more pressing debts. But between the moment of the crime and leaving the Hinata-sou, something had made her forget.

Mitsune eyed the row of bottles, their glass gleaming in the lamplight, with growing fury. One thing was in common among all the bad things that had happened in the last month. Naru's broken bones grinding in her hands. Plotting to seduce Keitaro. Stealing the money. Blowing the money. Losing the will to do anything. Being made homeless. Every single event had particular element in common.

In a sudden moment of clarity, the first in what seemed like months, the fox made a decision.

Standing uneasily the girl pulled her grubby white nightshirt straight, trying to ignore the stains which littered its surface. She was nauseous enough already.

Turning to the chest of drawers, a trembling hand reached out and traced the outline of a top quality bottle of sake. The liquid within almost seemed to climb up the inside of the glass, begging her to release the lid and enjoy the pleasure contained within. Slowly, the fingers closed around the bottle neck and hoisted it up to eye level, letting an unfocussed eye examine the label. Seemingly satisfied, Mitsune slowly nodded her scraggly head before turning and wobbling towards the balcony. Throwing the doors open wide, the shirt-clad figure stumbled out into the night air, feeling the chill instantly work its way through her threadbare clothing.

Shaking, unsure whether through the cold or alcohol, the young woman peered up at the sky and was surprised to see stars. From a sky adorned by a few drifting clouds a half-moon shone, illuminating the Hinata-sou and its surroundings in an ethereal glow. Staring at the moon, her grey hair taking on a hint of its old silver tint in the moonlight, a memory drifted into mind as if carried by the night breeze. Of sitting in the springs, talking to Naru beneath the very same sky. Mitsune doubted honestly that things could ever be quite the way they were.

That didn't mean they had to stay the way they are, either.

Tremulous fingers gripped the bottle top and wrenched it firmly, allowing the seal to come loose from the top with a satisfying crunch. The digits worked quickly to spin the cap free, and then discarded the offending item over the edge of the balcony without a second thought. Slowly, almost reverentially, the shirt-clad young woman raised the bottle, eyes closed as if in prayer. With its open mouth beneath her nose, Mitsune inhaled deeply and smiled a genuine smile, one that felt alien yet comfortable on her lips. As if swooning at the sensation, she leaned back, allowing her arm to drop behind her……

And with a grunt of effort, fling the bottle as far into the darkness as possible. For what seemed like an age, there was only silence.

Then came a loud 'smash', followed by a staccato outburst of distant barking.

Then silence again.

Then the unpleasant sound of violent retching, accompanied a split-second later with the spattering of indescribable fluids on the ground below.

After several seconds of emesis Mitsune decided it was safe to move, and gradually eased up from her position bent double over the banister. Even doing that caused distinct rumblings from somewhere that obviously didn't want to be disturbed.

"Right. No more rapid movements. I get it." The girl mumbled to her stomach, hoping to avoid any repeat. Her hands, now moving without hesitation, grasped another full bottle and released its lid before inverting the vessel and emptying its contents out onto the ground below. Shaking the last few drops out Mitsune turned and headed back into the room, depositing the now empty bottle on the floor and scooping up one of its brethren to repeat the exercise.

After much pouring and more than a few tears Mitsune picked up the last occupied bottle before strolling out onto the balcony. Meeting the chill outside air once again, the girl shuddered gently before holding her arm stiff out in front of her. As her wrist twisted to allow the translucent liquid to fall from its container, the silver fox felt a hint of dread creeping into her mind as she watched her crutch splintering before her. Calling on resolve she didn't know she had, the girl kept the bottle neck pointing towards the ground until the last drops of her liquid blindfold trickled from it and spattered on the ground below. Only then did she right the bottle, and bring it down to her side.

The girl took a deep breath in, and one out. Suddenly the night seemed a lot colder, yet at the same time somehow more……sensual. Feeling her hairs stand on end and the light shirt flowing over the sensitive skin of her chest, watching her breath misting into vapour and almost instantly vanishing, the silver fox briefly recalled what life could be before the sabotage she'd unconsciously performed. Something that blew away the clouds of doubt, even if only temporarily.

Mitsune knew that, at some point, she would want more. That she didn't have any more, and that she had no means to buy any more. And that life would probably get more difficult before it got easier.

But at that moment, she was happy. She may not have made the easy choice, but it was the _right_ one. The world would still be there tomorrow, and she was going to allow herself the night off.

Turning to step into the dimly lit room and pulling the balcony doors shut behind her, the girl wasted no time in laying on the futon and drawing blankets tightly around her, bathing in the warmth she rapidly generated. In her dazed and still drunken state she slipped into the blissful land of sleep within moments, a tiny smile upon her face.

--

--

The pale winter sun shone from the south east, barely holding its golden head above the horizon. All the same, it was the sun, at present a rarely-seen and hence very welcome sight. Beneath it a figure ascended the steps of the Hinata-sou, casting a long shadow before her. Near the top of the stairway the figure paused and carefully walked around something whilst muttering furious oaths about 'teenage vandals' and 'drunken yobs'.

Reaching the top of the stairs the figure dropped her bag paused for breath, before adjusting the long red coat which repelled the winter chill. Tipping the hood back and revealing honey-coloured hair complete with two 'antennae', the young lady took in the sight before her with an air of trepidation. Naru was unsure exactly what awaited her in the Hinata-sou. She hoped it was welcoming, but didn't expect it. She wasn't really sure _what_ to expect. A lot could happen in a couple of weeks, after all.

The most difficult thing, Naru decided, would seeing a certain face again. And trying to figure out exactly what it meant to her.

She didn't know quite how right she was.

"Well, no time like the present." The girl huffed, picking up her bag and visibly steeling herself. A hesitant left foot paced a few inches forward, followed by a slightly more aggressive right foot, until Naru was almost running towards the front door. Knocking loudly with her still cast-clad right hand, the honey-eyed girl clutched the door handle with her left and pushed the door inwards.

"I'm home!"

--

--

That's all for now. Chapter 15 is already in progress, which is good.

Until next time.

Nodoka Myazawa.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15, at long last.

It's been an eventful few weeks, and I apologise to those who have been waiting for this chapter. I hope the next post will be nearer the usual two or three weeks rather than two or three months...

Anyway, to other comments. I got a bit of criticism for the last few chapters – mostly agreeing with my own concerns. I plan to review the whole piece once it's done, and make amendments. But some of the comments about slipping into cliché were spot on, and I have made a few adjustments to the last chapter as a result. Thanks to those who informed me with constructive criticism. And also thanks to those who have PM'd me in the last few weeks with messages of support. They're all deeply appreciated.

Ramblings over.

--

--

Repercussions – Chapter 15

--

--

"I'm home!" Naru called quietly as she edged through the door, mindful that it was still early and a Saturday. When her tentative greeting went unanswered the honey-haired girl slipped the rest of the way through the entrance and set her bag down on the varnished floorboards before using her one functional hand to carefully shut the door.

Turning back to view the sight before her, Naru could almost have believed that she had only been absent for a few minutes. The same view as always, this morning illuminated by weak winter sunlight spilling in through windows positioned either side of the front door. Letting her eyes sweep across the familiar sight, the young lady almost missed a misshapen off-white lump resting upon one of the careworn sofas sat in the middle of the lounge. Peering inquisitively at the odd bundle through her trademark bottle-bottomed glasses, Naru almost jumped when it shifted of its own volition, accompanied by a vocal outburst, something along the lines of 'grompoff hurbivurrrrrrn'. The girl mulled over this profound statement whilst removing her scarlet coat and hanging it alongside its usual companions, subconsciously feeling it was back where it belonged.

Stopping to regard the heap on the sofa again, the Tokyo University student detected the sound of purposeful movement in the kitchen. Presumably Shinobu hard at work as usual. Making her own meals for once had reminded Naru just how under-appreciated the younger girl was at the Hinata-sou. Making a mental resolution to thank her at some point, Naru carefully approached the…..thing. From close-up it appeared to be a large pile of fabric, one that had either evolved into a sentient being or contained one. Deciding curiosity was killing her, the young lady poked at the blankets with a careful finger; one that made contact with something (or more likely someone) firm and warm in its depths. Judging by the way the cloth creature shifted and grunted, her ministrations were not going unnoticed. Giving into temptation, Naru smiled in amusement and gave the 'thing' several firm prods, each time her digit encountering a warm and soft landing. By the sixth a long grunt and a sleepy yawn informed her that the monster had awoken, whatever the 'monster' may be.

"Ahh cut it out Su-chan, I told you not to touch me there….." Bushy brown bed hair appeared from the far end of the sofa, followed by sleepy mahogany eyes. "Do it again and the others will kill me……" A hand emerged and rubbed the eyes vigorously, before they opened to their full extent.

And widened as they took in the face before them.

Naru went bright red as she realised who was actually buried in the blankets, and then dark red as she realised that she'd been prodding the aforementioned person somewhere undefined but probably off-limits. When Keitaro emitted what could only be described as an 'eeep' and buried himself once again, the fair-skinned girl didn't know whether to be angry, upset or embarrassed. Deciding that angry was definitely not the way to go so soon after her self-imposed exile, she settled on somewhere between the other two.

"Not pleased to see me, Keitaro-kun?" She said quietly, sounding and feeling slightly hurt. Yes, things hadn't finished on the right foot, but things weren't that bad were they?

"Uhhh, of course I am Naru-san." Came the muffled reply. "I'm just a bit of a mess this morning. You know, bed hair, bad breath and everything. I'd rather freshen up first if that's okay by you." The shrouded man added, with a hint of a nervous chuckle. Naru, still crouched by the side of the sofa, blinked curiously for a few seconds before her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Come off it Keitaro-kun. How long have we lived here together?" After tucking a few stray honey hairs behind her ears the girl grasped the topmost blanket and tugged it onto the floor at her side, old suspicions beginning to resurface unbidden. "Now come out and say hello properly. I'm not going to have a conversation with a heap of linen."

"Really Naru-san, it's not a bother. Just give me ten minutes….." Keitaro quickly realised ten minutes wasn't going to be given as the pile of blankets suddenly got a lot lighter. "Honestly, I'm not even dressed yet! Let me put some clothes on at least!"

"Get real. You'd never sleep in the living room starkers, when anyone could walk in on you. You've got at least that much sense." Naru replied, unaware of her rising voice. As the pair struggled with the last remaining sheet the noise from the kitchen stopped, its occupant realising not everything was as it should be in the room next door.

"Honestly, you've got to let me get ready! You don't want to see me like this….."

"Like what?" Naru growled, taking a firm hold of sheet and bracing herself. "What are you hiding, Keitaro-kun?!" Feeling the fabric sliding through his fingers, the Kanrinin yelped in surprise.

"Naru-san!"

In the following moment, several things took place almost simultaneously.

The blanket detached from Keitaro's grasp, revealing his face and torso.

Naru gasped, hands flying to her slack-jawed mouth.

And from the kitchen came the sound of a plate smashing.

"Wha?" The honey-haired girl barely had time for shock to register before the kitchen door flew off its hinges, admitting a Shinobu that Naru didn't know existed. One that stood as if seven feet tall, with supernovae blazing furiously in each eye.

"Naru!" The teenage girl almost literally flew across the room, face a picture of intent. Intent that would have come to fruition had she not been intercepted by Keitaro with her open palm only inches from her target.

"Shinobu, stop." Naru watched with frank astonishment as the Kanrinin visibly struggled with the usually placid violet-eyed home-maker, who showed no signs of relenting.

"Let me go!" Her soprano voice shrieked, venom lacing every syllable. "She deserves it! You can't tell me she doesn't!"

"Maybe she does." Keitaro said, before dropping his voice to a level that only Shinobu could hear. Naru half-watched as the Kanrinin mollified the furious violet-eyed girl while her mind analysed the sight she had just witnessed. What on earth had happened? As far as she could remember, the only blemishes the Kanrinin had ever worn were the ones he had earned from whatever 'perversion' he had performed that day. All those marks and scars…….they didn't belong to the face she was familiar with, the one she had come so close to on the night of her departure. So what had happened in the interim?

And on top of that, why did Shinobu show every intention of removing her head from her shoulders?

"Okay?" Coming back to reality, Naru saw the mousy-haired man place gentle hands on the tiny shoulders belonging to the normally meek girl, drawing her eyes to his. After a few moments he was rewarded with a nod, albeit one steeped in reluctance.

"Whatever you want, Kei." She replied quietly, taking a half-pace back. As Naru registered the lack of formality, something inside her twitched – she was unsure exactly what emotion was behind it, but knew for certain that it left a bitter after-taste in her mouth. Her displeasure must have been visible, as Shinobu gave her what could only be called a smile in the loosest sense. "Something the matter. Naru-san?"

"What on earth has been going on?!" Naru blurted, confusion beginning to nurture her ever volatile temper. The violet-haired chef seemed intent to reply until Keitaro held up a silent hand, one that Shinobu obeyed.

"That's a long story, Naru-san." He began, reluctance obvious in his speech. "One that, uh, I'd rather not go into now….." Naru growled in annoyance, flicking another loose strand of hair behind her left ear.

"Cut to the chase, Keitaro-kun." Unconsciously the girl's posture grew aggressive, back straightening to its full height, the fingers of her left hand beginning to curl towards her palm. Equally unconsciously, the man she seemed to loom over began falling into a defensive crouch, empty hands making placating gestures.

"Honestly Naru-san, it's nothing that can't wait….." Keitaro semi-pleaded, old reflexes making an unwelcome appearance.

"I'm not interested in waiting. I want to know." The scene may have played out like many others in the past – climaxing in either total capitulation or a not-so-minor explosion, had there not been an audience.

The audience in question being a not quite five foot tall girl with deep violet eyes. Eyes which took in the scene before her and widened momentarily as a hundred bad memories echoed in her head, each one more disturbing and soul-shaking than the last. Raised voices. Threatening gestures. Intent clear as crystal written on faces that displayed no remorse, only a dreadful certainty. As Naru let her demons take over and Keitaro quailed in anticipation, Shinobu couldn't help but see familiarity in every detail of the confrontation before her. For just the tiniest fraction of a second the girl felt a deep desire to run and hide.

But she had made a promise. A promise to her 'sempai', to stand at his side and protect him, no matter what. A desire amplified by the sight of his scarred visage, and then magnified beyond measure by reawakened memories. And this time there was no-one to hold her back.

Naru certainly didn't see her coming.

As the ringing of a thunderous slap resonated through the room the university student looked up in wild-eyed shock from the floor, plaster-clad hand coming up to touch her now scarlet cheek.

"Falling into old habits Naru-san?" Blinking blurriness out of her vision the girl focussed on someone completely unrecognisable. A diminutive figure that towered, a meek face that glowered. A month ago Naru would have declared it impossible, but now……Shinobu was scary. Terrifying even.

"Wh-what do you mean?" She stuttered, feeling the urge to back away.

"Hah, don't be stupid. The usual Naru Narusegawa-san stand-by. If you don't get your way, shout louder. If you still don't, hit something until you do." Shinobu stabbed a rigid finger towards Keitaro, who was still in his traditional 'please don't kill me position' and blinking stupidly as he tried to work out how he remained both in the room and conscious. "Are you going to pretend you weren't going to hit him?" Naru huffed indignantly, trying to regain some composure.

"Of course I wasn't going to! That's all behind me now."

"Right. So the fact you were clenching your fist and trying to shout him down was 'The New You' was it?" Quotation marks almost visibly appeared around Shinobu's term, which was delivered soaked in sarcasm and garnished liberally with disbelief.

"Uh…..All I wanted to know was how he got all those marks. I mean, they weren't there when I left." Naru's eyes narrowed slightly, still unable to stop herself jumping to conclusions. "If he's been doing something perverted..…" If someone had held a straw poll on the worst possible thing to say, the sentence Naru uttered would have won by one hundred percent.

Any self-control Shinobu had retained evaporated as raindrops falling upon the sun.

"Fine. You want to know, then I'll tell you." Shinobu leaned down until she was barely inches from Naru, forcing the normally taller girl to look up into her furious face. "You see, Kei has been deceiving you. He's been deceiving all of us. Those scars aren't new, they've been there ages. He just hasn't let us see them." Naru stared blankly at the fuming girl, puzzled.

"Wha? How? I think I'd have noticed……" In response violet eyes narrowed, their owner's voice dropping to a growl.

"Trust me, I wish I had. Then all this nonsense would have stopped a long, long time ago. But how he did it isn't important." Shinobu ignored the frantic 'shushing' gestures that the Kanrinin was making over Naru's shoulder, despair from bearing witness far too many times forcing the words from her in a rush. "What does matter is that he has them. And they were given to him by people living here." In Naru's honey eyes the faintest light of realisation began to dawn, rapidly followed by denial.

"No. I would have seen them, it's too obvious. I couldn't have done that……"

The reply was a dry scoff as the young lady before her gestured at the plaster-clad hand tucked protectively against Naru's stomach.

"Call yourself a Tokyo University student? Surely you can do the math….." Slowly, Naru raised the offending limb before her and studied it in bemusement, blinking slowly. Shinobu watched in satisfaction as her adversary's pupils began to dilate in shock, jaw dropping open barely a centimetre. "Yes. If you can break your own bones, why can't you break his?"

The tiny gasp which escaped Naru's open mouth was enough. It was the sound of the soul receiving a concussive blow. Feeling the air being drawn from her lungs the bespectacled girl turned horrified eyes on Keitaro, who stood awkwardly to one side.

"Please, Kei-san. Tell me it's not true, please….." The strangled plea wrenched at its target as he regarded Naru with a blend of sadness and disappointment. Eventually, the beseeching honey gaze proved too much for the man to bear.

"……" The pit which had formed in Naru's stomach swelled into a yawning chasm as Keitaro slowly but deliberately turned his head away, revealing yet another ugly line tracing his jaw.

"No……I can't believe it, I won't……" Although barely a whisper the words resonated throughout the silent room. As they faded the sound of footsteps from the stairs cut through the silence, and drew three pairs of eyes to the figure descending them, dressed in a plain white robe.

"Good morning." Motoko stated simply, brushing raven hair over her shoulder as olive eyes settled on the hunched figure in the centre of the living room. "Naru-san."

"Please. Tell me it's not true, Motoko-san……" The last vestiges of hope Naru clung to were swept away as cherry blossoms on the breeze when the elegant lady shook her head slowly.

"To do so would be a lie." She stated simply, tone gentle.

For several long seconds the only sound was that of rapid, frantic breathing.

Suddenly Naru bolted upright, pale cheeks taking on a green hue, before sprinting for the staircase which she ascended two steps at a time. Rapid footfalls grew quieter as she disappeared down the corridor, before the sound of a door slamming shut heralded the return of peace to the Hinata-sou.

The three remaining figures stared at the recently vacated spot in silence.

"Well. Naru-san took the news about as well as I could have anticipated." Motoko murmured, brushing sleep from her recently woken eyes. "Although I feel that the timing was possibly left a little to be desired."

"Well, it wasn't as if there was much of a choice. You could say she caught me by surprise." Keitaro sighed, turning mahogany eyes onto the second youngest resident of the Hinata-sou. "But I think we could have handled the breaking of the news better." Shinobu bristled at the apparent slight.

"Kei, you wouldn't have told her at all!" She snapped in agitation, fingers gripping the white apron sat atop her everyday clothes.

"That would have been my choice…."

"No, not any more. Not since the rest of us got involved. Don't you realise what it would have done to everyone, the next time she lost her temper? What it would have done to _me_?" The diminutive girl's eyes brimmed with furious tears, bottom lip quivering. "I promised I wouldn't let it go on any more. Maybe I could've done it better, but I couldn't stand it if she hit you again. I just couldn't……stand it……" The last word emerged as nothing but a squeak before Shinobu sank back onto the sofa, face in hands. Motoko placed a careful palm on her shaking shoulders, shooting Keitaro a significant look. In reply he sighed and nodded, guilt taking a firm hold as he sat beside the quivering girl and cautiously extended an arm. The concern eased when she leaned into his embrace, allowing him to securely wrap his arm around her slight waist.

"Shinobu, I'm…..sorry. You're right; there was nothing to be gained by pretending. You shouldn't have had to step in. I'm a coward, nothing more, nothing less." The shame in his voice rang true in every syllable, something that Shinobu couldn't help but respond to.

"That's not true! You're just…..scared. And I can't blame you." Sniffling slightly, the girl raised her violet-haired head and gave Keitaro a tiny, watery smile. For several moments the group sat in contemplative silence, until Motoko spoke up.

"I suppose it is a good thing that Naru has gone to the bathroom." She commented idly, olive eyes gazing up the empty staircase.

"Why's that Motoko?" Keitaro replied, bare arm still wrapped around Shinobu's torso.

"Because if she tries to go back to her room, she might be in for a surprise." The other two puzzled over her statement briefly before Keitaro drew the correct conclusion.

"Oh yeah, her room's not empty any more is it?" Motoko nodded; raven hair rippling with the movement.

"I believe it would be a good idea if I intercepted Naru before she discovers the change in living arrangements. I daresay finding Sara asleep in her bed might not improve her mood." Getting up gracefully the ex-swordsmistress glided in an almost ethereal manner to the stairs, long white gown almost brushing the floor beneath her feet. "I will take her to my room. For the next few hours, company will not be appreciated."

"Don't worry, you won't be disturbed." Replied the Kanrinin, nodding his head.

"Thank you, Keitaro. So, if you will excuse me……" As Motoko left the room the pair still seated drifted into their thoughts in silence, sharing a common theme.

_As if things could get any more complicated……_

It was only when Shinobu realised the arm binding her warmly was shaking slightly that another sound was made. "Kei, are you okay?" The man in question turned to face her, teeth chattering.

"S-sorry Shinobu, but I'm f-f-freezing!" Shinobu couldn't help but giggle.

"Then all we have to do is this." Grasping one of the numerous blankets still scattered around the sofa the girl pulled it up onto her lap, before draping the grey-white fabric around herself and her seated companion. Bathing in the warmth Shinobu instinctively snuggled into Keitaro's side, feeling more comfortable than she could remember. For once she harboured no dreams of what could have been, only the pleasure of being with her 'Sempai'. The apron-clad chef barely noticed when Keitaro breathed her name barely millimetres from her ear.

"Shinobu?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." The mouth of the violet-ette slid into a broad smile, one of utter contentment.

"Any time."

--

--

Breakfast on a Saturday was normally a late and somewhat sluggish affair, quite often going on for an hour as people came and went at varying times and paces.

On this occasion it was later than ever, although anything but sluggish.

That breakfast would be delayed became apparent when Mutsumi once again found two figures sleeping on a settee, wrapped securely in a blanket. After slightly bashful awakenings Keitaro had hurried off to the laundry room to change while the two young ladies set to work in the kitchen. As Shinobu tried to explain how one of the plates came to be in seventy-four pieces, a yawning and pyjama-clad Sara stumbled into the room requesting an urgent cup of coffee and an adjustment to the central heating.

When Su came bouncing down the stairs wielding a spanner, a lighter and a worrying grin, Sara's stated desire for her room to be 'a bit bloody warmer' was rapidly rescinded.

Unsurprisingly Mitsune, Seta and Haruka didn't appear.

Once Keitaro had arrived dressed in a slightly crumpled deep red shirt and a pair of well-worn slacks, the food was on the table and those present had set about demolishing it.

Then Naru had appeared at the top of the stairs.

Despite seeing it written in prose a hundred times or more, the girl had never believed that silence could truly be deafening.

Wrong.

Looking down at the faces gathered around the table, Naru fiddled with her golden locks nervously whilst examining the reactions. It was instantly obvious they all knew what she now did, given the frank astonishment that greeted her appearance.

Sara just let her jaw hang open, crystal blue eyes bugging quite some distance from their sockets.

Su peered up with blatant curiosity, tan face not a classic picture of delight but not cautious or hostile either.

Mutsumi on the other hand…..didn't smile. In fact, after her expressive brown eyes widened at the unexpected arrival, there was barely a reaction at all from the Okinawan. After several seconds of ocular stand-off the buxom lady dipped her gaze to her plate, neatly folding her hands across her lap.

Naru didn't think she'd ever seen something quite so unnerving.

"Hey, Naru-san!" Sara cheered, being the first to recover. "Didn't hear ya come in. Come on down, have some breakfast." The girl dressed in sky blue pyjamas grinned broadly, ignoring Shinobu's blatant annoyance at her apparently short memory.

"Come, Naru-san. You agreed that this was good a time as any." Motoko intoned, sweeping her typically regal way down the stairway. For several long seconds the girl stood at the top of the stairs, her fingers working anxiously at the hem of her mustard yellow sweater, all the while trying to decide why on earth this ever seemed to be a good idea.

Eventually she descended the stairs, although fighting gravity all the way.

"Here, have a seat!" Sara said, gesturing to the spot between herself and Su. Glancing at the little Molmolian, Naru's heart was lifted slightly as the princess gave her a tiny smile and a nod, normal frivolous persona absent.

"Yes, go on Naru-san." Keitaro agreed quietly, becoming puzzled when his one-time girlfriend remained standing. "Is there something wrong?"

"Well, that is, I….." Naru bit her lower lip anxiously, hands clenching one another so tightly her fingertips were numb. For several long moments the young lady stood stiffly opposite Keitaro, body completely rigid and shoulders tense as bowstrings, while an internal battle played itself out across her face. Eventually some sort of conclusion was reached, and she drew in a deep, deep breath.

And bowed. Bowed until she sank to her knees and her forehead touched the floor, and she could smell the dust gathered in the tiny cracks between the floorboards.

"I want to say I'm sorry, and apologise for the things I've done." The girl eased her head up until she could see the astonished face of the man before her, wincing once again at the sight of numerous scars and flaws. "I didn't know the harm I was causing, but that doesn't make me any less guilty. I wouldn't blame you if you asked me to leave, or never wanted to see my face again." Naru slowly dropped to her previous position of deference, long straight hair pooling on the floor around her. "So, all I can say is I'm sorry. I apologise to you all." Naru held the pose, waiting as Motoko had advised her for a response.

She didn't have to wait long.

"Naru-san, please get up." Keitaro said quickly, not wanting to see the girl lose any more dignity than she already had. Easing back onto her haunches Naru gazed levelly at the man before her, awaiting judgement. For several long seconds those gathered stared at her in amazement while the girl herself frantically tried to ignore the attention.

Eventually, the bespectacled Kanrinin cleared his throat.

"Naru-san, I…..look. I can't hold anything against anyone, it's just not who I am. And I'd be lying if I pretended that I was still mad." Naru felt her heart lift like a soaring skylark at the positive response, growing light-headed with delight. Seemingly ignorant of the affect his acceptance was having, Keitaro continued. "But I can't speak for the others, so….." He cast a look at the rest of the table's occupants, as if asking for their approval.

"Cool by me." Sara cheered, Su grinning beside her. "The more the merrier, but I'm not giving up my new room without a fight!" Relieved that at least two of the residents were on her side, Naru turned her attention to Shinobu fully expecting a more hostile reception. She wasn't disappointed.

"If Kei says it's okay by him, then I'm not going to go against it." The violet haired girl leaned forwards, fingers gripping the table top tightly as she stared deep into the kneeling woman's eyes. "But if you lay one finger on him, on any of us……You'll be behind bars before you can say 'pervert'." Gently the slight girl sank back into her seat, attracting wide-eyed looks from Su and Sara. Naru nodded, flinching involuntarily as Shinobu still regarded her with a mixture of anger and distaste.

"Shinobu-san, if something like that happens again, you won't have to call anyone. I'll give myself in willingly. I really wish I'd known this before now……" The sweater clad girl swallowed with visible effort, words thickly spoken. "Anyway, I've got to go and speak to Haruka. I hear she's got a few things to say to me as well." Easing up from the floor, Naru was about to take her leave when a voice halted her.

"Why don't you have breakfast first?"

"Uh….." At the offer Naru was sure she looked utterly gobsmacked, and she wasn't the only one. Shinobu glowered slightly, while Mutsumi shot Keitaro an incredulous glance but remained silent.

"Naru-san, if you wish to join us I would personally welcome your company." Motoko stated, to a backdrop of approval from Su and Sara. "I believe that bygones should be just that. You have made your apology and it has been accepted, to punish further would be churlish of us." Silently thanking the white-gowned woman, Naru turned her attention to the others at the table. Specifically the violet-haired teen who sat to Keitaro's left. The girl maintained her angry countenance for several seconds before it softened, almost imperceptibly, at the obvious remorse upon the honey-eyed face before her.

"Naru-san, it'll take me forever to trust you again. But if Kei wants me to try, might as well start now." She acceded, grudgingly.

"Thank you, Shinobu-san." As she made to sit down at the vacant spot between Su and Motoko a chair scraped backwards and Mutsumi stood, wiping her mouth with a tissue.

"Ara, I'm full. Time to go and get some bookwork done." The Okinawan brushed her long mahogany hair back over her shoulders, eyes carefully looking at nobody. Without awaiting acknowledgement she made her way from the room.

"See you later, Mutsumi-san." Motoko called after the leaving figure, before returning her attention to those at the table. "So, any plans for today, Keitaro?"

"Hmmmm?" The aforementioned man gazed blankly at the stairwell, seemingly oblivious until Sara reached over and snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Oh, uhm. Well, not really. I thought I'd pop to my room and see how Mitsune is doing….."

"Mitsune? In your room?" Naru, who had recently taken the offered seat, realised that her voice was a little too loud a little too late. The two very different warning glances she received from Motoko and Shinobu (demonstrating that a whisper and a scream can both carry the same message) suggested as such.

"Yeah. Long story." Muttered the scruffy-haired Kanrinin, clearly indicating it was a story he didn't have time to share.

"Let us just say that Mitsune-san has encountered several demons that she requires to conquer." Motoko placated, taking a sip from her tea. "We merely wish to give her the space required in order to do so."

"You mean we've abandoned her……" The svelte woman turned her gaze onto Keitaro, mild disapproval glimmering in her expression.

"Keitaro, Mitsune chose to follow the path she did without our intervention. It is for her to follow it to conclusion, whatever that may be." Strangling a wince at the cool tone, the Kanrinin bit back.

"You needed help to see the truth. Don't you think Mitsune deserves the same?" A deafening silence hung over the table for several seconds, before Naru cleared her throat.

"What are you talking about? And how did Mitsune end up camping in Keitaro's room anyway?"

"Let us just say that Mitsune decided that the answers to her questions were hidden in the bottom of a sake bottle. As for her residency in our Kanrinin's room, well, I think he is the best positioned to answer that question." Motoko replied calmly, although with an underlying edge. It seemed the swordswoman wasn't taking the ad-hoc arrangements well.

"Motoko….." A tone of caution emerged from the mahogany-eyed man's larynx, one the acknowledged by the ex-swordsmistress' silence. "The reasons Mitsune has for being in my room are not ones to go into right now. I'm going to see her and make sure she's okay, something I should've done already." Keitaro finished, expression unusually firm.

"…..Fine. It's the best I'll get." Naru huffed gently, sensing that now was not the time to push any issues.

"Hey y'all!" For the second time in ten minutes, all attention turned to the stairway. Or, more specifically to a familiar figure at its summit. "What, no hello? Ah, no matter, let me come an' join ya!" A thin, grey-haired figure descended the stairs, occasionally stumbling into the banister.

"Mitsune-san?!" Keitaro squeaked (quite literally) as the girl in question took the vacant seat at his side and proceeded to glomp him.

"The one an' only, sugar. So, whass a girl gotta do ta get a meal 'round here?" Mitsune grasped a free pair of chopsticks in slightly trembling fingers as Shinobu prepared a bowl of rice from the remnants of breakfast.

"Hey Kitsune-chan, long-time no see!" Sara's resonant voice echoed around the table as the recipient of her welcome scoffed a hurriedly assembled bowl of food.

"Ta, Sara-chan. Yer lookin' more ladylike than ever, you checked your bust recently?" While the blonde American seemed quite happy with the assessment, others around the table began to wonder if the fox's house had all its lights on.

"Mitsune-san, are you okay?"

"I'm fine ta, Kei-kun. But man, am I starvin'!" The slightly slurred way Mitsune deflected Keitaro's question along with the fact more rice was showering the table than entering the girl's mouth suggested that she wasn't quite up to par just yet. As a whiff of sake along with something acrid and unpleasant drifted across the table Motoko's nose twitched before she stood with an expression of distaste.

"I'm afraid I've just lost my appetite. Please excuse me ladies, Keitaro."

"Motoko, mind if I catch up with you in a minute?" Olive eyes met chocolate-brown, before she acceded with a simple nod.

"I shall be in my room, Keitaro. Join me when you wish." Naru took a sip of tea as Motoko left, trying to hide her astonishment. Keitaro being invited into the bedroom of her one-time comrade in arms? This sudden paradigm shift was going to take some getting used to. Mulling over how the world could change so much in such a short time, the honey-haired student almost missed the next question.

"Mitsune-san, have you been drinking again?" The fox scoffed the last of the rice and let out a satisfied if unladylike belch before replying.

"Nah, not since last night, or maybe this mornin'. Not sure really." Handing her bowl back to Shinobu with a request for more, Mitsune seemed to notice for the first time the returning face at the table

"Hi Kitsune." The girl recovered quickly, even whilst intoxicated. But there was enough of a flicker there, as the grey fox noticed her presence, to suggest that not everything was going to go smoothly.

"Hiya Naru. How's it goin'? Folks pleased to see ya?" The drawl was back – slightly drawlier than usual, and Naru responded with a smile.

"Yeah, nice to catch up once in a while. Managed to sort a few things out too."

"Nice to have ya back." As Mitsune returned her attention to filling the seemingly endless void of her stomach, Naru ran a hand through her honey locks while eyeing her friend. The conversation she had shared with Keitaro over the phone was running through her head incessantly, in particular the fact that Mitsune had, apparently, tried to get very up close and personal with the Kanrinin. Although she didn't obviously hang off the man like a cheap suit, Naru couldn't help but analyse the girl's behaviour as she chatted aimlessly with those left at the table. The way that her trembling hands seemed to search out Keitaro's on a regular basis as the conversation moved back and forth, the obvious hunger in her face that had nothing to do with a lack of regular meals…..whether imagined or not, it seemed to the university student her long-time friend was keen for a little attention.

There was also the fact that, despite the seemingly aimless banter and the fact the girl was clearly still hammered, barely a word or a look came her way. Naru may have expected it from Shinobu, but to be almost blanked by Mitsune was very odd. As the fox swept grey bangs out of her eyes and started talking with Sara about her favourite hair care product, a misplaced memory came back to Naru.

"…_..That's how I feel every damn night. That's how bein' alone feels. Like part of you is broken, and someone just keeps on squeezin' it. Tighter and tighter……" _

The anonymous voice suddenly became familiar. Now she had a face to match it.

The questions she needed answered now were when, and most of all, why?

--

--

Inside the room, all was silent. Mutsumi sat legs akimbo on her bed, deep brown mop spilling idly over her shoulders and down her back, lips which normally wore a smile weighed down at each corner. Anyone who knew the effervescent if fragile lady would have struggled to recognise the abject figure, moist eyes staring aimlessly at a point about six inches above her wardrobe. Listless fingers picked at the corner of a workbook, which lay unused and forgotten before her.

All in all, the girl was the living definition of the word 'morose'.

It wasn't fair. She had seen Keitaro's reaction when Naru walked back into his life, and it was the one she'd dreaded.

Acceptance.

Despite a touch of lingering guilt, Mutsumi had hoped that the break-up which had taken place only weeks ago was permanent. That it would take time for the pair to even speak to one another again. Then add in the whole Shinobu affair, plus Mitsune putting herself in everyone's bad graces……

The Okinawan had allowed herself to believe she had a chance of getting what (or more precisely who) she had always wanted. For Naru to simply stroll back in and take a seat at the table, even with a heartfelt apology, was galling to say the least. Or, to be brutally honest, it was utterly soul-destroying. Certainly, there were no guarantees that things would go back to how they were. But the one thing that had held the carefree young lady back in the past was that, deep down, she knew that it was Naru Keitaro really wanted. If the same feelings persisted now, well…..

She had had her chance. For some time the field was open, and no-one had a claim on anyone. But she'd been the same old Mutsumi, and given way with good grace, allowed events to proceed without pushing. And now, it seemed, her window of opportunity had slammed shut. Once again, she'd been the same old Mutsumi, and given way with the best grace she could muster.

Lord, how she hated being 'the same old Mutsumi.'

Abandoning hope of even pretending to work the buxom girl flopped face-down onto her aquamarine bedspread, burying her face into the soft linen. It wasn't the fact that she'd been passive to the point of stupidity, and possibly missed her opportunity that hurt most. It was the fact that she would now stand back and watch events unfold. With a smile.

The blankets rumpled as fingers clenched it tightly, the figure lain upon them wondering how much more of 'the same old Mutsumi' she could take.

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Motoko perched easily in a meditative position, allowing her heightened senses to explore her surroundings. While she considered the way of the sword to be a part of her past, the one-time ronin still believed in maintaining the mind, body and soul in balance. Hence her silent consideration, using both personal observation and the general atmosphere of the house, to judge the repercussions of the last twenty-four hours.

The only firm conclusion Motoko could come to was uncertainty. Although Naru had received an ambivalent response, it was likely she would be accepted back into the fold and become a part of the family again soon enough. Meanwhile Shinobu had re-affirmed herself as a pillar of support for the Kanrinin, whilst Mutsumi's response had been oddly withdrawn. Even Mitsune had resurfaced, although what affect this would have Motoko was unsure. One thing she was certain of; until Naru and Keitaro defined the nature of their relationship, the future was hazy as Tokyo in the dawn mist.

The white-gowned lady had even given thought to how the two possible outcomes would impact on her. Her newfound self-honesty had allowed her to admit she cared deeply for her Kanrinin, even to the point of using the dreaded 'L' word. The idea of the seemingly ill-fated pair starting afresh didn't sit easily with her, but Motoko couldn't say for certain if it was because of jealousy or purely concern for their wellbeing.

Truthfully, in the depths of her soul, the lady believed that after all she had put Keitaro through Naru didn't deserve the man's love and devotion.

In the very darkest corner of the depths of her soul, Motoko wondered if she deserved it either…..

The rapping of knuckles on wood disturbed the martial artist's meditative trance, and she returned her attention to the world around her and the conversation she had been anticipating since breakfast.

"Come in, Keitaro. The door is open." A brief pause preceded the entrance of the aforementioned man, who bowed from the doorway.

"Thank you Motoko." Keitaro hurriedly slid the door shut behind him and fixed his line of sight on the floor two foot in front of Motoko, anxiety obivous as the few drops of sweat lining his brow. The girl gave a shake of her raven head, feeling a tiny twinge of familiar guilt.

"Urash- Keitaro, please don't tell me you're still dithering about being in a private place with a lady. I had hoped after our numerous revision sessions you had moved beyond that by now." The response was a sheepish grin, complete with hand scratching the back of the head.

"Sorry, Motoko. Old habits really do die hard, don't they? Besides, it's a little different when it's someone else's room." Taking a seat on the floor the Kanrinin fixed his gaze on the figure before him, not accustomed to being in Motoko's room with freedom to scrutinise.

"How so?" The girl asked, curious.

"Well if I'm here on business, which I usually am, the plan is do the work and get out quick." Keitaro scratched his jaw unconsciously, fingers coming away with the conclusion that a shave wouldn't go amiss. "You know what normally happens if I'm somewhere I shouldn't be, or at least not expected. Plus, it's just not safe to look around a girl's room."

"Not safe?" Motoko gestured to the room as a whole, tone genial. "I've invited you in here, I'd be a fool to not expect you to explore your surroundings."

"Yeah, well I'm not denying you're right." The man relaxed, allowing his dark eyes to roam around and take in the sights given his host's permission. "But Naru might disagree with you. Heck, you'd disagree with you twelve months ago."

Motoko couldn't help but silently admit he was right.

"It's not seeing the room that's the problem, as such." Keitaro continued, content he was safe to continue his visual survey of the primarily white and teak room. As expected of the one-time swordswoman, simplicity and functionality were watchwords (excepting the suit of armour perched sentinel-like against a side wall). "It's what might be on show in the room. You'd be amazed the things that people forget to put away, like that lace lingerie over there…..." The monologue trailed off as Keitaro licked suddenly dry lips, a sense of all-encompassing doom breaking over him like the surf. Slowly, mechanically, he turned his head back to Motoko while trying with all his might to stop the hot blush spreading across his face.

"Yes. That is indeed a good example." Came the reply, from someone who had left the aforementioned garment out for the very purpose of judging the reaction it got. Given the heat radiating from Keitaro's cheeks and the tiny trickle of blood from his left nostril, it was a favourable one.

"Ah! I'm so-"

"If you're about to express your apologies for spying something in plain view, then cease before you begin." Motoko interrupted, stern as she could appear while controlling the mirth bubbling beneath the surface. To see the outcome was incredibly gratifying for the young woman. After comparing herself initially to her sister, then later to Naru and Mitsune, the martial artist had never been particularly confident about her appearance - not that it had mattered while her 'pervert' trigger had been active. But now, to receive an obviously positive response to something comparatively minor, it made something deep inside her glow. She was unsure exactly what, and not exactly keen to go digging in order to find out, but it was pleasant all the same.

Sweeping her ruler-straight ebony hair back behind her shoulders, the young lady couldn't help but chuckle quietly at the utterly lost expression on her visitor's face. The man looked like he'd been cornered in an alleyway by a gang of armed men, only to find they simply wanted to tell him his laces were undone. And was unsure whether bending over to tie them up would result in secure shoes or a lead pipe to the head. And quite possibly a fate worse than death. Eventually taking pity on Keitaro (with a little self-reminder that it was at least partly her fault he reacted this way) Motoko cleared her throat.

"So, Keitaro. I take it you did in fact come in here with intent to do something other than peruse my surroundings?" She asked politely, albeit with a single raised eyebrow.

"Uhh, yeah." The man in question tore his attention back onto Motoko, although his eyes couldn't help but stray periodically back to the puddle of black lace which tormented him from the periphery of vision. "Well, it's about Naru and all that stuff that went on downstairs. Why did you make her do it?"

"Make her do what?"

"All that apologising and bowing and stuff." Keitaro replied, gesturing animatedly with his empty hands. "There was no way Naru would let her forehead touch the floor, and they'll be gritting the seventh circle of hell by the time she does it in front of a table full of people."

"But she did." Motoko answered easily.

"I don't..."

"Keitaro, please think about this." The youngest Aoyama cut her manager off before the words could pass his lips. "Naru has made an apology she needed to make. And she has done so before the people who needed to see it - as Shinobu succinctly pointed out this morning, the two of you aren't the only ones involved. Also, she has performed an act of penance, which I feel is entirely apt given the amplitude of the crime." Seeing Keitaro still regarding her with an emotion as close to anger as he ever got, Motoko sighed gently and bowed her raven-crowned head. "You may not agree entirely with my methods, but from my point of view every angle had been covered. Naru would not have apologised quickly or easily of her own volition, which may have allowed her grief to become anger. She has also done so in a manner which will stay with her, and act as a reminder. In the same way my personal epiphany was neither easy nor painless, but became all the more profound as a consequence."

"Ah, well..." The bespectacled man found his annoyance seeping away at the sight of Motoko with her head bowed, obviously awaiting an outburst. In the end he could only puff out his cheeks in frustration. "Look, I don't like it. That doesn't mean you're not right of course. I'm just a little wary; not knowing how she'll react."

"After what has passed in the last month, especially the last few hours, I doubt seriously that you have to worry for your safety."

"I know, I know." Keitaro replied, still looking anxious. "It's just...I don't know. Seeing her like that, it was just so wrong somehow. She's always been above me, out of reach. Looks, grades, popularity...heck, for years my ceiling was her floor. Looking down on her made me uncomfortable. Maybe I still care about her too much to watch her lose her dignity. It's something that I always respected, something she had that I hadn't." The mousy-haired man slipped his glasses off and massaged his closed eyes with thumb and forefinger, obviously exhausted.

"Keitaro..." Motoko breathed, feeling a touch of anxiety blossoming in the pit of her stomach.

"Ah, enough about that. There's something else I wanted to ask." Replacing his black-rimmed spectacles, the man looked at the figure opposite him with renewed focus. "Why are you giving up the Shinmei-ryu?" The unexpected change of direction caught Motoko off-balance.

"What do you mean? I explained my reasoning yesterday." She said, eyes narrowing. Seeing her reaction Keitaro waved a conciliatory hand in apology.

"Sorry, that came out wrong. What I really mean is...there's no way the Motoko I know will give up her position in the school; if she does the line of the school ends. As Tsuruko has already announced her intention for you to take over, if you don't..." He trailed off, watching Motoko carefully while the young lady weighed up her options. In the end, she decided that there was nothing to be gained by staying silent before someone she trusted not to betray her confidence.

"Well observed, Keitaro. The answer is that whilst at present I am the only one who could possibly inherit the school, all being well, there will be another heir arriving soon." It didn't take Keitaro long to work it out. The tiny drop of the jaw signified as such.

"You mean Tsuruko's child, don't you?"

"Yes." Motoko answered, expression becoming troubled. "It is not a decision I arrived at lightly, or without regret. I was burdened with the future of the school from the moment of my birth, and find the prospect of doing the same to another abhorrent. To this moment I have not summoned the courage to make the decision once and for all. I never believed myself of the potential to take over Tsuruko's mantle, so to commit an unborn child to what is my fate...I do not know if I have the heartlessness to do so." Keitaro watched with a furrowed brow as Motoko rose from her kneeling position with the ease of a geisha, and strolled over to her balcony window.

"I wouldn't call it heartless. I doubt anyone did when they gave you the title." The scruffily dressed Kanrinin murmured quietly. For several seconds there was no reply, the elegant lady seemingly more interested in the blue sky outside than the conversation within the room. The eventual response was just as quiet, but intense.

"I imagine it was passed on as a blessing, not a curse. Am I truly so selfish?" Slim fingers reached out until they touched glass, the clear surface they landed upon misting as warmth and cold collided. Looking at the scant reflection of the man behind her Motoko sighed gently before closing her olive orbs, finishing in a dry whisper. "It seems what Oneesan once told me is true. Logic cannot triumph over what defies it, Keitaro..."

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I know I'm probably going to be killed to bits following this chapter for a variety of reasons. But I'm kinda getting used to it by now...

Until next time.

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	16. Chapter 16

Only two weeks this time, an improvement I suppose.

Things seem to have settled down now, which hopefully means I can make the updates more regular again. I'm not going to speculate how many more chapters there will be – looking back I estimated about half a dozen chapters from chapter 10. Wrong. Very wrong. I'm just going to keep following the plot and see where it leads.

Thanks again for all the reviews, I really appreciate them.

On with the story.

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Repercussions Chapter 16

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Shinobu winced as the sound of retching – productive retching – seeped through the toilet door and down the corridor. It seemed Mitsune had been a little too enthusiastic at the breakfast table that morning, and that three bowls of rice in five minutes was not a fantastic choice after several days of a sake only diet.

While Mitsune embarked on another spell of porcelain plastering the girl stood outside waiting to use the facilities focussed her thoughts on the business of the day, mostly to ignore the quite remarkable noises the grey fox was making. Why was it that hearing someone being vigorously sick made everyone else in earshot want to vomit in sympathy? If it wasn't for the fact her desire to use the smallest room was really quite pressing, Shinobu would have walked away and left Mitsune to it for as long as she desired. Besides, who knew what kind of state the toilet was going to be in once her under-the-weather friend was done.

A twinge from her lower abdomen reminded the diminutive chef that coming back later wasn't a viable option.

Crossing her legs and silently cursing god for creating her female with a…….limited capacity, Shinobu knocked on the door with a little more urgency.

"Mitsune-san, could you hurry up in there? If you don't there's going to be an incident, one that means you doing your own washing for the rest of the month." _Make that the rest of the year_ the girl amended mentally as another twinge made life even more unpleasant. "Seriously, move it! Now!"

"Chill out kiddo, I won't be……" Whatever Mitsune wasn't going to be was drowned out by a further bout of heaving, one that had Shinobu gagging in agreement. The girl wasn't sure what was a less appealing prospect – giving up the battle and finding somewhere private to await the inevitable, or staying at her post and parting ways with her own breakfast.

"Please, Mitsune-san!"

"Yargh. Oh, that's better." Mitsune muttered, before a sound that was delightful and agonising in equal measure came from within the room. A toilet being flushed.

"Oh gawd….." Biting her lip, Shinobu found herself trying to name all the different types of cooking utensil at her disposal in a desperate bid to ignore the din that was flowing water, reaching spatula by the time the door slid open. A bedraggled and sallow-skinned female was ejected, and subsequently almost bounced off her feet as the smaller girl shoved past her and slammed the door shut in one frantic motion.

"Sheez. My head." Resting her head and shoulders against the solid surface behind her, Mitsune allowed herself to slowly slide down it until her backside hit the floor. "Shinobu's gotta learn that shoutin' and shovin' do not a happy hangover make." The grey-eyed girl had found that the last remaining dregs of cheer in her system had lasted until about ten minutes after breakfast, or to be precise, until the last mouthful of rice decided to make an unwanted reappearance. At that moment a headache sent special delivery from hell had decided to make its appearance, and the slightly wonky way the world tilted stopped being amusing and became nauseating.

In her time, the career layabout had experienced hangovers from the mild to the murderous. But this one was trumping anything she'd ever experienced hands down. It wasn't so much the way her head throbbed, or her hands shook. It was this slightly odd, echoing sensation that the world was…..unreal. An odd detachment, a ship within sight of shore yet still adrift.

It was a little unnerving.

The sound of hands being washed and a window sliding open passed beneath the drowsy fox's notice, and it was only when she found herself flat on her back in the bathroom and staring up at a puzzled violet-framed face that Mitsune realised Shinobu was finished.

"Mitsune-san, why were you sat against the door?" The young chef asked, slightly unnerved that the aforementioned woman was lain flat out on a tile floor with no obvious intent to move.

"Ah, I dunno sugar. Guess it was what was behind me at the time." Managing a slightly sickly grin, the grey-haired figure lifted a hand out towards Shinobu. "Afraid I'm not too steady on me pins right now, y'know? Mind you, ya could've knocked a chargin' bull for six the way ya dived in here."

"Sorry about that. It was a bit of an emergency……" Watching the other girl flounder somewhere between embarrassment and bashfulness, Mitsune croaked a chuckle. Shinobu might have grown up a great deal, and boy had she turned into someone not to be trifled with. But find a subject that you might call 'taboo', and she reverted instantly back to the rosy-cheeked sweetheart that had joined the Hinata-sou almost half a decade ago. Deciding to let the girl off, the prone fox waved her still proffered hand in Shinobu's general direction.

"When yer done goin' red, there's someone here who could do with a hand up." Reaching out with her right Mitsune grasped the towel rail firmly while her stuttering companion took hold of the left. Between her own mal-coordinated efforts and inexpert assistance from someone more used to lifting dishes than inebriated women, Shinobu nearly shared the floor with the fox several times before the rescue attempt could be considered successful. Transferring her left hand to the sink and therefore allowing Shinobu use of both arms, the pale-faced woman grew even paler faced as another wave of nausea broke over her. It took every ounce of self-control she had to fight down whatever was left in her stomach, while the violet-eyed girl looked on with understandable concern.

"I think you should sit down, Mitsune-san." The fox closed her eyes tightly and let her head hang down, trying to fight off the impression she was riding the world's fastest merry-go-round.

"Nah, I just….gotta get ta bed. If I sit down, doubt I'll get up again." Swiping at the sweat beading upon her clammy brow, Mitsune let go of her temporary crutch and instantly realised doing so was a bad idea as the world tilted upon its axis. Grasping tightly again at the white porcelain until she knew up from down, she muttered darkly under her breath. "How I'm gonna do that's another question……"

"Need help?" Shinobu's earnest question earned another dry chuckle.

"Oh, all I can get….."

"Come on then." Slipping underneath one of Mitsune's arms and lacing one of her own around her friend, Shinobu was stunned to find that she could almost carry the fox single-handed. Which was quite a surprise, as in her own mind the only member of the Hinata-sou who would be……bulkier than the fox was Mutsumi.

"Ta, Shinobu-chan." With considerable effort and a few hairy moments, the pair meandered their way towards Mitsune's temporary abode. Wisely ignoring the door marked '205', Shinobu almost carried her unsteady passenger the last few yards until the portal to what used to be Keitaro's room appeared before them. A quick pause for breath, a quick piece of footwork from someone used to opening doors with her hands full, and the pair crossed the threshold. It was a good thing that Mitsune had temporarily regained some of her footing by this point, as otherwise Shinobu would have simply dropped her.

The state of the place……Shinobu knew that as the resident home-maker she was a little neurotic at the sight of mess, but this took things to a whole new level. The first assault was to the sense of smell - her delicate nose wrinkled slightly at the scent of a room which badly needed airing. It wasn't just the mist of alcohol hanging malignantly wherever the nose went; it was the slightly acrid odour at the edge of perception that drew a grimace from the teenage girl. The smell of sweat, of sickness, of dubious personal hygiene…..deciding to breathe through her mouth, Shinobu managed to take stock of the sight meeting her eyes.

It wasn't much better than the smell.

'Room' didn't quite describe what she was seeing correctly. 'Landfill site' might have been better terminology.

Barely a square inch of floor was visible, clothes, bottles and paper strewn about without a thought to their location. Each and every surface cluttered by more of the same, shiny glass and machine-safe polyester living in careless disharmony. One particular corner of the room seemed to be dedicated to lots and lots of tiny shreds of white paper, all bearing that suspicious small print which only exists on letters bearing bad news. Aware of sleepy grey eyes watching her from the corner of the room but unable to help herself nonetheless, the diminutive girl picked her way across the room and selected an intact sample – presumably from the 'to be shredded' pile – and unfolded it. The amount printed wasn't vast, but it was ordained with 'final demand' in big red letters. Add to that the number of similar letters, and it was obvious the fox was in more trouble than she'd anticipated.

It was when she turned to look back at Mitsune that Shinobu couldn't help but let a gasp escape her mouth. Her eyes espied the skyline of bottles lined identity-parade style along the left wall, probably enough to pay off at least the bill in her hands if taken to a bottle bank.

Each and every one of them was empty.

Spinning on her heel, the violet haired girl picked up the nearest discarded receptacle from the floor and upended it.

Nothing.

Scanning the rest of the glassware on view, Shinobu came to the conclusion that every single one of them was equally bereft of liquid.

The girl was no expert on the subject of drinking, but she was no fool either. Concerned, she turned her attention back onto the fox who was curled up on the stained and crumpled futon shoved into the darkest corner of the room. And fast asleep, whilst emitting a noise Shinobu had only ever heard from nature programs entitled 'Love on the Serengeti'. Relieved but still curious, she carefully shuffled over to the sleeping figure and (after shoving some of the detritus to one side) knelt down. A few gentle prods didn't even produce a change in snoring rhythm, so the young lady decided to forego subtlety and simply shook the fox awake.

"Mmmmmmf?"

"Mitsune-san. Did you drink all of this?" Drowsy eyes blinked with the puzzlement of someone playing pairs while missing half of the deck.

"All what?" Sighing in frustration, Shinobu spoke slowly and clearly as she could manage.

"All of the sake. Did you drink it all?" Evidently Mitsune found a few cards down the back of a sofa somewhere, as she managed to mumble a legible response.

"Nah. Tipped some away. To sleep can I go back now please?" The sleepy woman didn't bother waiting for a response, something a fresh outburst of snoring attested to.

Releasing the now comatose girl carefully and allowing her to rest back onto the futon, Shinobu regarded Mitsune with considerable unease. Yes, she had seen the 'party animal' the worse for wear many times, sometimes in places she shouldn't be, sometimes doing something she shouldn't. On one memorable occasion sat on the lavatory with her forehead resting on the sink (how she'd managed to fall asleep in that position the innocent home-maker had no idea). This, on the other hand, seemed to be a whole new level of hangover.

Ah, no problem the young girl reasoned. A hangover was a hangover after all. In her time Shinobu had helped to ease both family members and Mitsune through enough of them to know what to do. A quick trip to the kitchen later, the recumbent girl was furnished with a cold flannel, a jug of water and a large red plastic bowl (with many potential uses, most of which won't be mentioned at this point). This was followed by some pillow fluffing and blanket arranging, and then as far as Shinobu was concerned, her work was done.

Standing up with a satisfied smile, the girl stepped back and placed an unknowing foot on one of the stray bottles behind her. A loud crash and a sore posterior later, the purple-eyed chef glared at the treacherous terrain with the look of someone who has just received a declaration of war. Making a resolution to come back with a fleet of black bags when her regular chores were complete, Shinobu edged over to the doorway and slipped through, nudging the door shut behind her before deciding that washing the sheets was first on her list for the afternoon. It was a task she had grown to enjoy significantly when it occurred to her teenage mind that each set carried the scent of their owner.

Needless to say Shinobu liked washing one particular set more than others. If any of her housemates were to see what the 'innocent' girl did when locked in the privacy of her washroom with the aforementioned sheets, no-one would have looked at her in quite the same way again.

However, some stories are best left untold.

Humming a cheery tune and twirling a violet strand between her fingers, the girl almost skipped off down the hallway towards the living room and her target, which would still be stacked in a messy heap on the biggest sofa. While growing up was proving to be hard work, Shinobu couldn't deny that it had its perks.

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Inside the room, Mitsune snored on, oblivious.

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At the tea-house, Naru felt her neck resting on the block for the second time in as many hours. Her executioner sat directly opposite, very deliberately smoking a cigarette. The requisite cup of coffee sat off to one side, no longer steaming as it had when she had first arrived.

When she had first arrived…..Naru was eternally grateful Seta had been sat at the table. Otherwise, she probably would have ended up buried underneath the nearest available patio. Haruka didn't honestly seem to know what form of assault to begin with – verbal, psychological or physical. While the older woman had swelled to the point of eruption and appeared set to both metaphorically and literally rip her head off, the unshaven archaeologist had strolled across the room and laid a single hand on her shoulder. A few murmured placations later Haruka had given the contrite girl a glare that could singe the eyebrows from her face before storming off into the shop, which thankfully at that moment was closed for lunch.

Once the slightly irate Urashima was out of sight, Seta had asked her inside and offered her both a seat and a drink. She'd accepted a cup of tea and her one-time crush had set a pot of coffee to brew before taking the place to her left. Where he proceeded to light up in typically laconic fashion, and exhale a smoke ring towards the single oil lamp currently bathing the room in comfortable, warm tones. Naru meanwhile sipped the drink before her, slightly relieved that Seta had come to her rescue but chilled by the certainty that Haruka would be back. And out for blood.

"You know, Haruka's not quite so mad at you as you think." Not expecting conversation, Naru's honey eyes widened slightly as they landed on the tall man beside her, who was relaxed back and examining the ceiling as if it were the daily newspaper. "Sure, she's cranky. I can't blame her, either. When part-timer came to me asking for help, I was a little disappointed when I discovered the source of the trouble."

The young lady couldn't help but wince. It was mild, and spoken as if discussing the weather, but that was as close to a rebuke as she'd ever known the absent-minded professor to come.

"Yeah, I know now. There's no way I'd have done it again if I'd known, honestly." Naru gazed down at her cup, rested upon the white-clad arm in her lap.

"I believe you." The sound of another relaxed exhalation punctuated the silence that followed, before Seta continued. "I think Haruka will too. All the same, she's got every right to chew you out to her heart's content before admitting it." A chair creaked briefly, and footsteps followed. "What's really bothering her is that, between you and your sliver-blonde friend, things between her and part-timer aren't too hot right now."

"Seta, I'd rather deliver my side of the story myself….." Looking up in surprise, the sweater-clad girl nearly spilt her tea as she caught sight of the returning Haruka. Who seemed to have recovered some of her poise, but still displayed a total absence of good humour. Pulling up the seat opposite Naru, the café owner silently accepted the hot coffee that arrived with flawless timing and fished into the breast pocket of her charcoal-grey blouse casually. When slim fingers emerged with the obligatory tobacco stick it was placed between thinned lips with minimal ceremony, and a flame flared into life precisely on cue for Haruka to lean forwards and ignite the very tip. As the intimidating figure opposite took a deep drag on her fresh cigarette and Seta silently pocketed his lighter, Naru couldn't help but wonder if the pair rehearsed the whole charade.

"Uh, Haruka-san….."

"Hold that sentence, Naru-san." Cool contralto tones stopped the younger girl dead in her tracks. Swallowing down a lump of anxiety, Naru watched with the eyes of the hunted while Haruka deliberately exhaled a lungful of smoke, tapping the spent tobacco into a Molmolian relic which magically appeared beside her. Only then did the older woman fix her with a stare. One that the honey-eyed girl was sure Medusa could learn from.

"Okay, Naru-san. This is what is going to happen. I am going to talk. You are going to listen. And once I'm done, you're going to tell me why exactly I shouldn't escort you to the bottom of the steps by the most direct route. You know, the one that you've employed with Keitaro for the last four years." Taking a further dose of her worst habit, Haruka favoured the girl before her with a smile that was all teeth and no happiness. "Pin your ears back, Naru-san. I have plenty to say……"

That had been twenty minutes ago. Eighteen of the interceding twenty had been occupied by one of the most frightening monologues Naru had ever experienced. Worse than Shakespeare, even. The other two minutes contained a stilted and hesitant testimony, one that would make any defence lawyer break down and weep before the court. However, revealing the extent of her background did seem to have mollified Haruka slightly. That is to say the glare had been downgraded to merely a frown.

Hence, Naru sat like a naughty schoolgirl before the headmistress, awaiting the verdict but hoping against hope it wasn't expulsion.

Thankfully, Haruka took pity on her and got to the point with typical brevity.

"I'm not going to say you're forgiven. I'm not going to say I want you to stay, either." As the girl opposite gasped quietly, Haruka took a mouthful of liquid from the cup, grimacing as almost cold coffee washed over her tongue. Gagging slightly and setting the mug aside, the slim woman shrugged. "But I've given everyone else a chance. And, much as I wish it wasn't true, you deserve one too." Naru almost shot out of her seat in delight, the largest smile she'd worn for weeks breaking across her face.

"Thank you Haruka-san, you won't-"

"But I'm warning you, Naru-san." Haruka broke in, pointing a stiff finger straight at the younger girl's nose. "One step out of line, and…..let's say Keitaro doesn't have any more rooms to give up."

"Yeah, I get it." On this occasion, Naru couldn't keep a hint of annoyance out of her tone.

Haruka's eyes narrowed.

"Careful. I told you you're not forgiven yet." Frustrated, Naru placed her palm on the table and leaned forward.

"I know, okay? I know I'm responsible for more than I imagined I could be. I know I've been stupid, I've been a bitch. I know!" Blinking back errant water glistening in her honey eyes, the girl continued in a low voice. "I know too well. You think this is easy for me? To find out I've been inflicting GBH to someone I loved because I was too anal to notice?" Gritting her teeth, Naru looked down at the constant reminder she carried, willing herself to stay strong before Haruka's non-committal stare. "I don't care if you hate me right now, Haruka-san. It's not a patch on what I think about myself."

The gaze of the woman before her softened just a fraction.

"You know Naru-san, if you'd said this twelve months ago we'd never have needed this conversation." Standing slowly from her seat, Haruka stretched her arms towards the ceiling with a satisfied groan. "Just remember my warning. Now, I have to open the shop for the afternoon. If you would excuse me….." Recognising a dismissal for what it was, the sweater-clad girl got up from her own position and paced slowly towards the exit.

Pausing a few feet from the door, Naru turned to face the elder Urashima and bowed respectfully at the waist. "I know you won't accept it Haruka-san, but thank you all the same." Barely receiving a grunt in reply (no more or less than she expected) she turned once more and opened the door; until Haruka's calm voice halted her.

"A word of caution, Naru-san. Urashimas may forgive, but we never, ever forget." Nodding once to demonstrate she heard the girl continued on her way, slipping the door closed as she left.

Inside the tea shop, Seta placed a calloused palm on Haruka's shoulder while his other hand proffered the lighter, an offer his wife gratefully accepted. After a few steadying puffs, the lady shook her dark-haired head and sighed.

"Sheez. I thought my headaches were over."

"Not while the Hinata-sou exists." Seta grinned around a cigarette of his own. Haruka rolled her eyes, poking the unshaven man roughly in the shoulder.

"You're enjoying all this waaaay too much."

"It does make times interesting. Although 'interesting times' is often considered a curse….." Shrugging, the archaeologist casually tapped the end of his tobacco stick on a priceless relic. "So, shall we open up for the afternoon?"

"Yeah, why not."

--

--

Motoko glared at the phone, willing it with every fibre of her being to cease existing.

The girl had spent a good part of the afternoon building up her courage to make the call. It had taken several hours and considerable cajoling from Keitaro, but eventually she had drawn up the necessary bravery to contact her sister and inform her of her decision.

At least she _thought_ she had.

Things had started out so well. The first digit of the phone number was pressed with conviction, the second with determination. However, by the time she arrived at the penultimate number her index finger was trembling, and the handset landed on the receiver before the final button could be pressed. Deciding that she would rather consider her decision for a while longer, perhaps another five or ten years, Motoko had turned to leave the room. Only to find Keitaro had followed her, and was looking at her with a single eyebrow raised. Six months ago the ex-swordsmistress would have simply swept past imperiously, not caring an ounce what the man thought of her.

On this occasion, she swallowed nervously and turned back to the telephone. Hence her present position, glaring at the blue plastic communications device as if it had personally insulted her honour.

The second attempt was better - the full number was entered before the handset clattered back into its resting place. On this occasion Keitaro had to stretch out an arm to stop the half-hearted escape attempt. A silent glance, this time with both eyebrows raised, was enough to convince the young lady to try again.

Third time turned out to be lucky, as Motoko actually managed to dial the entire number and listen to the sound of ringing from the earpiece. Four rings, five, six – maybe there's no-one home – seven, ei….

"Hello?" At the sound of a familiar voice the handset was abruptly slammed down.

"Motoko……"

"I can't do it, Keitaro." The fearful girl gasped, pupils dilating as old anxieties resurfaced. "I just can't….."

"What was it, three weeks ago? Four? I said exactly the same thing." Keitaro said quietly, gaze cast down at his bare feet. "I thought it was an impossible step to take. If I remember rightly, someone held me at blade-point to remind me the price of giving up. And now, I thank my lucky stars she did." Raising his chocolate irises to meet olive ones the Kanrinin continued in the same tone that, while peaceful, contained a hint of steel Motoko didn't know he possessed. "I don't have a katana. I can't hold sharp steel to your neck. But I can remind you the price of always going back is never moving forward."

The silence which followed contained an odd combination of shock and embarrassment.

"Uhhhh, sorry. Don't know where that came from. Talk about corny….." Scratching his mousy brown mop, Keitaro felt like finding a nice, quiet, dark corner – perhaps under the stairs – and waiting for the memory of his last statement to disperse.

"Well, yes." Motoko couldn't keep a hint of amusement from her tone. "But right all the same." Taking a calming breath, the younger Aoyama reached tentative fingers for the phone again.

Both of those present nearly sustained concussion from the ceiling when it started ringing of its own accord. Eyes met again, this time sharing thoughts along the lines of 'surely not…..'

When she picked up the phone, Motoko learned that Tsuruko knew of the 'ring-back' system and had proceeded to implement it.

The conversation proved to be slightly one-sided, as it took the younger sister several minutes to get her jaw and tongue working in any kind of synchrony. Eventually, she had squeaked out that she wished to 'discuss' something with Tsuruko, something better talked about in person. While unwilling (or unable) to explain precisely what, Motoko had suggested that some time in the next few weeks would be fine.

However, in typical style, her older sister detected the indecision and announced that she was sick of 'hanging around the house' and the way she was being treated 'like a china vase'.

The result?

The Hinata-sou was going to be receiving another guest the very next day.

Hence Motoko's trepidation as she hung up the receiver. Looking to Keitaro, who had heard enough to understand the necessity to clean out the last spare room, the slim lady sighed and shrugged. "Well, I think I had better set to writing."

"Writing what?"

"Oh, only my last will and testament." Motoko laughed shortly, stopping as Keitaro failed to join in.

"I don't think it's that funny." The man stated, looking anxious while subconsciously tracing the left side of his jaw.

"Do not worry, Keitaro. Violence will play no part, neither of us wish a physical confrontation. Myself as I have chosen to no longer bare arms, my sister as she is close to becoming a mother." Running fingers through her arrow-straight locks, the Tokyo-U hopeful frowned gently. "The very worst that could happen is for myself to be made ronin, and cast from the family. While I would be crushed by such an action, I have chosen to follow my own path and do not require their support to do so. I wish for it, but could do with out so long as……." The look Keitaro received was as close to beseeching as he ever imagined the normally impervious woman could be.

His response was a warm smile. "We're not going anywhere, Motoko. I'm not going anywhere. We're here for as long as you need us."

"Thank you, Keitaro." If the man was surprised by Motoko's willingness to forsake her family, he was downright astonished at what happened next.

If it had been Mutsumi, or Shinobu, a long and warm hug accompanied by a peck on the cheek could be considered par for the course. However, for the olive-eyed maiden to physically glomp him……if it weren't for the fact the grip was tight and the lips warm Keitaro would have considered pinching himself. Motoko for her part had abandoned conscious thought, and was enjoying the blissful sensation of intimate contact. The pair stood in silence until a petite cough sounded from behind them.

Mutsumi smiled blandly as the pair sprung apart, each of them developing a rich flush upon their face. "Sorry to interrupt, but I believe Shinobu wanted you for something, Kei. She's in the washroom right now….."

"Oh, uhm, okay. I'll have to let her know about our impending visitor. Not like we're busy enough clearing one spare room for Naru to move back in….." Glancing up at Motoko Keitaro gulped nervously, suddenly realising the compromising position he had just been seen in. "I'll catch up with you later, Motoko. Thanks, Mutsumi!" With a brief 'see you' the man strode to the stairway and ascended it two at a time, until disappearing from sight.

Leaving the two women looking at one another.

For one of the first times in her life, Motoko found herself bereft of anything to say.

"Uh, Mutsumi-san……it was, that was……"

"It's okay, Motoko-san. I don't need to know what it was or wasn't, it's not any of my business anyway." The Okinawan replied, her voice mirroring her expression – pleasant but utterly empty. "Just to let you know, dinner will be late tonight. Shinobu's been washing sheets all day, and it's taken her longer than she expected."

The ex-swordsmistress simply watched as Mutsumi turned and walked away, trying to fathom what exactly she had just done. A passionate embrace, with Keitaro no less! On the very same day Naru returned, and before the eyes of Mutsumi……Motoko knew she should be feeling guilty for a multitude of reasons, not least fraternising in public with a man. However, the part of Motoko's mind which urged caution and restraint had been escorted from the premises soon as Keitaro had admitted his undying loyalty. Being cast from the Aoyama roll didn't truly scare the young woman, but the thought of being alone did.

The Kanrinin had promised he'd stand by her.

In what role, she didn't know. But she intended to find out, and she had one in mind……

--

--

Something was wrong.

She could feel it intrinsically, in her very bones.

The sensation of impending doom, the increasingly muddled way the world appeared through her tired eyes.

Keitaro's room ceased being comforting, and was becoming a prison. The fox was sure she could hear whispering from the shadowy corners, the unsettling sensation that she was being watched by unseen eyes.

Feeling her stomach churn and the walls slowly but surely approaching her prone form, Mitsune decided she had to get out before whatever was about to happen actually did.

Hauling herself to her feet she almost toppled over, the throbbing headache which was her permanent companion escalating to blinding proportions. Bile welled up in her throat, and at the back of her tongue the girl tasted bitter acid. Swallowing forcefully, the bedraggled girl staggered to the door while inside her a tumultuous storm raged. Feeling panic drifting into the edge of consciousness, Mitsune hauled the door open in a desperate attempt to escape the penetrating stares of the eyes unseen, eyes which were judging her, weighing her very soul and finding it wanting.

Finally locating the exit the girl threw it open, and almost screamed as the bright corridor light assaulted her fragile senses. Clutching her face and suddenly very aware of her heart thudding thousands of times a minute in her chest, she stumbled into the opposite wall and rested against it, drawing frantic breaths which never seemed to quench her thirst for air.

"Mitsune-san?" A familiar voice, oddly echoing and distant, flitted into the fox's consciousness. Squinting slightly, the girl made out an off-purple blur before her. Opening her mouth to ask for assistance, Mitsune was surprised when all that emerged was the contents of her stomach.

Her surprise was short lived, as a moment later the fox ceased to feel anything at all.

--

--

It was bound to happen. It had been far too long, this being the Hinata-sou.

Indeed, Keitaro had been beginning to wonder whether there was some kind of curse on the building which had mysteriously been lifted when Naru had left for a spot of soul-searching. Several weeks without a slip, grope, exposure or any other kind of unintended 'perversion'. (Shinobu's and Mitsune's episodes didn't count, since there was nothing unintended about them.) For such a long time to pass without some form of accident which would have resulted in a trip through the stratosphere was unheard of.

Of course, it was only when the Kanrinin allowed himself to even consider such things that the inevitable happened. This particular piece of inevitable involved a basket of laundry, an ajar doorway to the springs changing room and a stray banana peel courtesy of Kaolla Su. The sequence of events doesn't even need replaying; suffice to say the result was lots of flailing, destruction of a screen door and an unwanted dip in the hot water.

'Fate needs no temptation.' Keitaro reminded himself as he raised his face out of the bath, minus glasses. This was a matter of choice - whenever he found himself unexpectedly in the springs' warm water, he usually found himself in seriously hot water shortly afterwards. Losing the glasses prevented any clear focus, which in turn prevented his nose bleeding – he had long ago learned any nasal eruption was taken as evidence by the prosecution.

It was only when he heard no reaction whatsoever that he dared to dip a hand back into the depths and pluck his spectacles from the floor of the bath, safe in the knowledge that he had gotten away with it on this occasion. Even with an armistice in place, the man knew better than to push his luck.

Brushing wet hair from his face, Keitaro perched his eyewear back in its rightful place with a sigh. That would be the inner screen door to replace, and a whole basket of sheets to pick up and fold on top of preparing two rooms. Oh, and a full change of clothes into the bargain. Sincerely wishing he hadn't counted his chickens, the man turned to exit.

And saw Mutsumi sat towel-clad in the water, looking at him with surprised mahogany eyes.

Suddenly, Keitaro sincerely wished he'd left his glasses below the waterline. Much as he tried to keep his gaze somewhere innocuous, he couldn't stop his mind wandering. At present it was considering what would happen if Mutsumi ever developed a chest infection, given how much chest there was to infect…….

The Okinawan looked on with concern as the unwitting interloper sank slowly below the surface and began making odd bubbling noises, while the surrounding waters turned a worrying shade of crimson. Deciding that she had better not take any chances, the buxom lady eased across the spring until she was able to reach down and grasp one of the immersed Kanrinin's shoulders.

"Ara, ara. Kei, are you alright?" Pulling the man's head above the water, Mutsumi blinked slowly as the eyes which mirrored her own slowly opened. The sequence of emotions which followed were obvious as ink on paper – first dazed confusion followed rapidly by awakening realisation. This was followed by widened eyes and blind panic before memory switched on, and reminded the man of the current amnesty. Eventually realisation dawned along with a hot blush as Keitaro surmised he was still, in fact, in the hot spring with a scantily clad Mutsumi who wasn't about to fly him to the moon via NaruAir.

"Uhm, sorry about that Mutsumi." The thoroughly sodden man scratched the back of his head with customary nervousness, while a tiny trickle of red fluid continued to seep from one nostril. A fact not lost on Mutsumi.

"Ara Kei, you're bleeding." Leaning forwards, the Okinawan frowned ever so slightly. "You didn't hit it when you fell in, did you?"

"Uh, no….."

"Well, we need to mop that up. I'm sure I can come up with something." Mutsumi stated blandly, her hand straying to the top of her towel and working at the knot.

The result was a significant surge in blood flow and Keitaro bonelessly flopping backwards into the hot waters.

"Here it is." The mahogany-eyed Okinawan withdrew a white handkerchief from somewhere normally off-limits with a flourish, before realising her target was nowhere to be seen. "Ara?" Glancing around, the girl noted a further reddening of the waters before her. Blinking in puzzlement, she moved to rescue her Kanrinin again before a conversation shared at the table only days ago flickered into life. On the subject of spontaneous nosebleeds and the reasons behind them…..

After a few seconds Mutsumi resumed the rescue, albeit much more red-faced than before.

Once Keitaro had finished coughing up a small ponds-worth of water and Mutsumi had regained her typical distant expression and placid smile (albeit a little wider than usual) the pair regarded each other in a slightly-less-comfortable-than-usual silence. Something that unnerved Keitaro slightly, as the one girl he'd always been at ease with was the Okinawan. Eventually, he cleared his throat and spoke quietly.

"Anyway, sorry for disturbing you Mutsumi." Sloshing his way towards the exit, the Kanrinin waved over his shoulder, trying his best to sound casual. "I've got washing to put away, so I'll see you-"

"Stay." The word was spoken so softly that Keitaro almost missed it.

"What?"

"Please stay." Turning around slowly, the bespectacled man saw Mutsumi staring up at him with a pleading look on her normally serene face. "I'd like to you to join me, if you're not too busy that is….." The words trailed off into silence, spoken more in hope than expectation.

For several long seconds Keitaro considered his options. On one side, this was Mutsumi, someone he would love to spend hours in the steaming waters with. On the other hand, he had a packed schedule that evening, and although there was little chance of significant pain from staying doing so might be pushing his luck just a little.

"Well, uh……"

"Please, Kei?" Whatever excuses the man was about to make died instantly, as the delicate sound of droplets striking water crept into the edge of hearing. Staring at Mitsune's downturned head Keitaro could feel his breath catch, and had to force his knees not to buckle at what was to his eyes a horrifying sight.

Suddenly, leaving was not an option.

"I'll be right back." He muttered quickly, before stepping into the outer chamber. Proving he had learned some lessons during his tenure as Hinata-sou manager, the man carefully closed the outer door before stepping behind the remaining inner screen door to change into a towel.

Mutsumi brushed her hand across her face as Keitaro stepped out of sight, wondering where on earth the unexpected water had come from. The thought of yet again being second best – having the focus of her affections choose to do something as menial as chores ahead of spending even a minute with her – was far more painful than she could have believed. Determined as she was to keep 'Mutsumi' firmly in place, the Okinawan had found herself simply overwhelmed.

While the sounds of moving fabric whispered across the still waters, Mutsumi tried with all she had to reassume her facade but found her facial muscles fatigued and unresponsive. Eventually the young lady gave in, and allowed tired sadness to settle there instead. After seeing what he had just seen, Keitaro wouldn't be fooled by a plastic smile anyway.

After a few minutes Keitaro emerged wearing a full-length bath sheet, with the logic that the less of him that was on show the better. Stepping into the steaming depths and settling against a smooth white stone a few feet to Mutsumi's side, the man pushed a few straggling brown hairs from his eyes and allowed himself to rest back. Peering up into the darkness, he permitted himself a few seconds of luxuriating in the rich warmth before speaking.

"Sorry, Mutsumi." The man removed his glasses and set them atop the stone behind him, before splashing a handful of water into his face. "I guess I'm still a little cautious. Even though Naru's promised, it'll take me time to really trust her again……" Staring with myopic eyes into the night sky, Keitaro missed the look of shock which passed across the young lady's face.

"Ara, I understand Kei. They always say 'once bitten, twice shy'."

"All the same, I should have known better. Besides, you've been a real friend to me." Keitaro laughed gently, unaware of a wince from his bath-mate. "It's a shame I'm not so good at returning the favour. I appreciate it, more than you might realise." Something in the way the man said it, something she couldn't quite define but made her heart skip a beat, made Mutsumi's mind up.

"Kei, do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Sure." Reaching around behind her, Mutsumi nervously fiddled with her dark brown locks, fingers working at the bands which held her waist-long hair in place.

"Well, it might sound odd, but where do you see yourself in ten years time?" At the tentative question Keitaro initially replied with a 'hmmmmm', finger perched on his chin while he considered his answer.

"I think I'd like to be here. A professor of archaeology in Tokyo-U would be nice, or at least Seta's understudy."

"So who else would be here?" The young lady asked gently, easing the dark coloured bands from her hair and smoothing her hands through the loose braids to release them.

"Everyone!" Came the emphatic reply. "Myself, Motoko, Shinobu, Su, Naru, Haruka, you….."

"Kei, do you think that can happen? That everyone here will be happy living as they are now?" The words came out softly, yet with an edge Keitaro didn't know Mutsumi's voice could hold.

"Well um. I-I don't know. I'd like to think so, but nothing lasts forever." Out of the corner of her eye Mutsumi saw the Kanrinin shrug, for the first time gaze moving from the stars above and onto her. "What's brought this on, Mutsumi?"

"I…..I'm tired of things being as they are." Sighing gently, the normally cheery lady eased the last of the braids from her hair, allowing it to trail straight down her back and into the water. "I need things to change, one way or another. It's killing me, Kei, this endless carousel." Frowning in concern, Keitaro slipped closer to the girl at his side.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Laying a careful hand on Mutsumi's bare shoulder, his concern doubled at the tension gathered beneath his fingers.

Mutsumi took a deep breath.

"What I'm trying to say Kei, is I-"

"Heads up!" A soprano yell was immediately followed by a thunderous splash, one that had Keitaro and Mutsumi wiping water out of their eyes. As vision cleared, they took in the sight of Koalla Su peering at them with undisguised curiosity. Suddenly remembering their proximity and state of undress the pair flew apart to a respectable distance, Keitaro blushing and Mutsumi's oblivious face dropping neatly back into place.

"Ara, Su-chan. Please remember that the door is there for a reason." She chastised the tan princess gently, although the look in her mahogany eyes was as close to murderous as the Okinawan could ever come. Something Su either failed to notice or ignored with typical irreverence.

"But where's the fun in that?!" Swinging around, the young foreigner scouted the presence of the Kanrinin who was trying to make as rapid and unobtrusive an exit as possible. "Heyas Keitaro! Don't go, we're gonna have fun!"

"Um, Su, I don't think I should….." It was difficult for Keitaro to decide what was worse – being glomped by Su who had bypassed the changing room in coming direct to the hot spring, or the fact that Motoko had just stepped through the door only wearing a towel while holding another in her arms.

"Su-chan, how many times have I told you it is courteous to wear something….." The Tokyo-U aspirant froze as the scene before her played out in typical Hinata-sou style. Part of her wanted to blush, turn tail and run, while a tiny fraction of the old Motoko which still existed wanted to smite the pervert down. It was the sight of Mutsumi in the spring with a slightly fixed smile that made her mind up.

"Ah, Motoko! It's not how it appears, I swear….."

"Su-chan." Ignoring the man's pleading tones Motoko flung the towel at the exuberant Molmolian, tone exuding calm. "Please put that on. If Keitaro is to stay here with us, we should at least ensure we are appropriately attired." While Su cheerfully complied, the Kanrinin was stood doing his best impression of a guppy fish.

"S-stay?" Motoko gave a tiny smile, although the heat in her face couldn't entirely be attributed to the steaming waters she slipped easily into.

"Far be it for me to disturb your bath. If I am accepting of your presence, then the only question is can you accept mine?" If listened to carefully, the merest hint of teasing could be discerned from the elegant woman's tone.

Keitaro missed it completely.

"O-of course Motoko." Placing himself back against his rock, the man tried his best to ignore the fact he now had two very attractive women (and Su, who didn't really count as a woman just yet) dressed only in towels in his presence.

He was eternally grateful he hadn't replaced his glasses just yet.

"Hey dork!" Keitaro's stargazing was disrupted as a blonde-framed face came into view, complete with traditional smirk. "If ya haven't noticed, the cute girls are down here, not up there." As the Kanrinin continued to stare upwards with the concentration of someone very aware of the fact, Sara put her hands to her hips and sighed. "Sheez, are you even straight? Whatever dork, catch you later." With that the inevitable game of 'tag' commenced, and the man once again had his view of the heavens undisturbed.

"You are allowed to look at us, Kei." Mutsumi's mellow voice floated through the still evening air, although lacking its normal melodic quality.

"Just to check. Naru isn't coming in is she?" Keitaro asked carefully, still carefully looking at no-one.

"I believe she is busy arranging her new room. She stated she would not be done for a few hours yet." Reassured Motoko, who had settled at a position opposite the dark-eyed pair.

"Well, that's a relief." Allowing his head to tilt back to neutral, Keitaro glanced sideways at Mutsumi who had sunk deep into the still waters with a blissful expression on her face.

The message was clear. Now was _not_ the time.

"So, any plans for the evening?" Motoko asked, examining her nails.

"Not really, mostly planning to prepare Tsuruko's room……" Keitaro stopped dead as a soprano shriek rent the air, one that emanated from within the Hinata-sou.

The Kanrinin reached the spring door barely half a pace behind Motoko.

"Keitaro! Motoko! Naru!" Hurtling into the corridor, the pair nearly collided with Shinobu who was calling every name she could think of at the top of her voice while sprinting quickly as her legs would carry her.

"Shinobu! What's wrong?" The towel-clad man grasped the anxious girl by her shoulders, and it was testimony to Shinobu's anxiety that she didn't notice.

"It's Mitsune!"

"What about Mitsune?" Motoko asked, gazing up the passage the violet-eyed girl had emerged from.

"She's collapsed, I can't wake her….."

--

--

That's all for now.

I'm going to go and take cover. My friend has already stoned me for this chapter, and I'm expecting more of the same...

'Til next time.

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	17. Chapter 17

Time for another chapter.

Thanks once again for all the reviews, and all the constructive criticism I've received. I don't always agree with all of it, but it makes sure I keep thinking about how I plan the fic or develop my writing. Also a mention to those who noticed my mistake in the previous chapter...I re-read that scene at least a dozen times and missed it on each and every occasion! I've now rectified it, so many thanks for the assistance.

No more rambling today.

--

--

Repercussions – Chapter 17

--

--

An unshaven man reclined against a fence, staring out into the black night. Illuminated beneath a single streetlight, the figure drew his shoulders in and shoved hands deep into his pockets, watching his breath misting upon contact with the bitter February air.

What time it was Keitaro didn't know. It was either very late or very early, and almost certainly a time at which he should be sound asleep. No such luck tonight. Not one member of the Hinata-sou was going to be dozing at this point. Well, Sara had fallen asleep on Seta's lap after a couple of hours, but that was to be expected. Everyone else was too tense to rest, Haruka included. Keitaro had only slipped into the frigid night for the chance to mull things over without the suffocating air which pervaded the sub-waiting room his housemates currently occupied. The worry gnawing at his stomach had only been amplified by the obvious anxiety oozing from his friends, and the Kanrinin had made a quick exit before the whole scene became too much for him.

When he'd left Haruka had been pacing and smoking heavily (having struck her match on the 'No Smoking' sign), Mutsumi and Motoko were sat side-by-side sharing expressions of honest worry, and Seta was stroking the blonde head of the girl sleeping beside him. Shinobu had been calmed down from her initial blind panic, and instead was chewing on whatever nails she might have left. Su on the other hand was looking a little too quiet, and a little too pale. When it became clear that Mitsune's condition was no laughing matter, something had changed in the little princess. Now, for the first time Keitaro could remember, the eternal optimist looked genuinely and profoundly troubled by something.

Naru's reaction was perhaps the oddest. While she might have been expected to be prowling like a caged tiger or banging on the recovery door to find out what was going on within, she had instead found a corner of the room, selected an orange chair and sat silently. And there she was still sat, staring fixedly at the hands curled in her lap.

"Hey part-timer." The fence moved slightly as a taller man assumed the same position against it; elbows propped upon the top with the torso tilted back just enough to make stargazing easier.

"Seta-san." Still preoccupied by thought, Keitaro nearly missed the cigarette held in front of his face. Wordlessly he took it from his smiling mentor, and allowed the older man to light it as he inhaled deeply.

What followed was a minute of coughing and spluttering while Seta looked on with obvious amusement. Eventually, whilst wheezing and brushing tears out of his eyes, Keitaro managed to glare at his chuckling companion.

"How the hell can you smoke that stuff?"

"Told you it wasn't a habit to get into." Taking the Marlboro back, Seta inserted it into his own mouth with obvious relish. "You said you'd only accept one when the girls had finally driven you mad….."

"I think that they've finally achieved their goal." Keitaro replied blandly, accepting the offer of a second drag, this time only spluttering a little.

"Didn't think it'd be Mitsune to add the last straw. I would have put money on one of the others." The tall archaeologist joked easily, drawing a small smile from his protégé.

"Well, I certainly didn't see this one coming. Came as a heck of a shock." As he said it, Keitaro realised he had probably won the understatement of the month award. When Shinobu had come barrelling down towards the springs in search of help the very worst he'd expected to encounter was another photo-shot of an intoxicated Mitsune, the very same figure he'd seen in varying states of drunken slumber far too many times.

The moment he laid eyes on the girl in question, the situation suddenly became a lot more serious.

She was laying on the floor, but not still. Her entire body was shaking, convulsing with an intensity which scared the man to his very core. Limbs flailing with unrestrained violence, head striking the wooden floorboards with frightening regularity, grey eyes rolled up and unseeing. For what seemed like an age the three stood together and simply watched in horrified fascination, mesmerised.

To Keitaro's surprise, he recovered first. Stepping forwards the final few feet, the man grimaced as Mitsune gagged on something. Recalling something he'd been taught long ago, Keitaro knelt and rolled the unconscious girl onto her left side, trying to ignore the fluid behind the choking being deposited in his lap.

"Mutsumi, call an ambulance. Motoko, fetch Haruka. Now!" Glancing up, the bespectacled man knew he didn't have to ask twice. A pair of curt nods were all the answer received as the pair turned and hurried away. Feeling more of something best ignored landing on his impromptu gown, Keitaro turned his attention to the three remaining residents. Two of whom looked utterly frantic, and the other oddly lost. "Shinobu, Sarah-chan-"

"Is she going to be alright, Kei?" Lower lip trembling, Shinobu sank down to the floor, panicked violet eyes filling with tears. "Please say she'll be alright, I thought she was going to be fine this morning….."

"Shinobu." Her name spoken, sharply but not without sympathy, brought Shinobu back to reality. "I can't promise anything. But what I really need now are some towels, a bowl of water and a change of clothes. Can you do that?" Taking a few deep breaths, the scared girl slowly responded with a shaky nod.

"I-I'll be back now Sempai."

Not noticing her slip Shinobu got carefully to her feet and scurried off towards the laundry room, followed closely by Sara. Adjusting his position slightly to prevent his toes going numb, Keitaro carefully cradled Mitsune's head in his hands. Thankfully her fitting seemed to have eased, although he could still feel the unconscious woman trembling in his grasp. Taking some reassurance from the sound of noisy breathing and the steady movements of the downed fox's chest, it took Keitaro several moments to realise he still had company. Glancing up, the currently non-bespectacled man was still able to make out Kaolla Su's expression.

Hiding somewhere beneath the shock was something slightly……odd.

"Su-chan?"

"I can't help." Kaolla muttered, seemingly miles away.

"What?"

"I can't do anything." The tan princess continued, suddenly looking every minute of her seventeen years.

"Su!" Keitaro's sharp tone drew the girl from her stupor and her aquamarine eyes to him. "Su-chan, you can help. You can get me a bowl of water, and help the others with the towels. Can you do that?" Briefly, Su stared blankly at the Kanrinin until reality tapped her on the shoulder.

Yes, it wasn't much. But it was _something_. For the time being, something would have to do.

"Okay." As Su hurried off to the kitchen without her usual irreverence, the kneeling man concentrated on simply keeping himself and his ill friend as comfortable as possible. Whilst trying to ignore the tiny voice of shame that had began to tickle at the back of his mind, the one that told him he had neglected Mitsune for far too long.

"Keitaro-san?" Keitaro almost dropped the head in his lap as a contralto voice emanated from behind him. Craning around, he took in familiar honey-framed eyes, ones currently occupied by surprise.

"Ah, Naru-san, it's not what it looks like….." The old line slipped out unbidden, one that caused just a flicker of suspicion to cross Naru's face. Cursing the mistake, Keitaro remembered that he had more important things to do than cover old ground. "It's Mitsune, she's collapsed."

"Collapsed?" Naru echoed, one eyebrow elevated. What happened next caused the other eyebrow to join its counterpart.

Keitaro returned his attention to Mitsune, and in doing so turned his back on her.

The Tokyo-U student fought visibly for control over her volatile temper, biting her lip and forcing herself to actually study the scene before her. Yes, Keitaro had Mitsune's head in his lap. Yes, he was only wearing a towel. And yes, they were currently alone in the corridor. But the rigidity in the Kanrinin's back, the concern in his voice…..all of them registered, dousing Naru's fire.

The sight of her best friend vomiting blood onto Keitaro's leg extinguished what remained instantly.

"Oh god! Mitsune!" The honey-haired girl dropped to her knees beside her Kanrinin, placing a palm to the pale woman's forehead. The skin was cool and clammy to touch, layered thickly with sweat. Anxiously Naru reached out to one of her friends limp arms and took it by the wrist, eyes widening slightly as her fingers sought out the rapid, thready pulse beneath them.

"Mutsumi's getting the ambulance, Shinobu some towels." Glancing at Naru out of the corner of his eye, Keitaro was glad to see her keeping some composure. The Kanrinin wasn't sure how much of his own he had left.

"Okay." The antennae'd girl released Mitsune's wrist and instead clutched one of the comatose fox's hands between two of her own. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Staying here is probably the best thing at the moment. We'll have to clean her up in a minute, and I doubt you'll want me here for that part." Following Keitaro's nod, Naru realised that her friend's clothes weren't only soaked with sweat. Swallowing carefully, the kneeling girl shook her head.

"I think you're best staying here. You seem to know what you're doing Keitaro-kun." Wringing Mitsune's captured hand between her own, the sweater-clad girl searched desperately for another topic, anything to take her mind off what was actually happening. "So…..how did you get good at all this anyway? I don't remember you ever doing any first aid courses."

"Anyone who spends time on a dig with Seta has to know this stuff, given his track record. Mind you, although plenty goes wrong, no-one ever gets really badly hurt….."

"Kei, I've got them!" Sliding into the hallway Shinobu briefly faltered when her eyes met Naru's before hurrying towards the group while lugging a comically big pile of towels, Sara tottering behind her with an equally large bundle. If there was one left anywhere in the Hinata-sou, Keitaro mused, he would be very surprised.

"Thank you." Sliding a pair of folded towels beneath Mitsune's head before setting it gently down, the Kanrinin eased himself up with a wince. "Man, my knees are killing me." Casting a glance down at himself, the man quickly turned his back on Shinobu so the young girl wouldn't see the red stains upon the front of his impromptu clothing.

"Need to change?" The dark-haired man could have hugged Naru as she held a fresh towel out towards him, one he accepted gratefully.

"Be right back." Skipping through the nearest doorway, Keitaro set to changing while the two girls tended to Mitsune. After a minute of repeating 'calm down' sotto voce, the man stepped back out into the light wearing his new towel.

To find the three he left, plus Su and Mutsumi, staring at him.

Keitaro had accepted the towel Naru handed him with the view 'beggars can't be choosers'. It turned out to be a lot less expansive than its predecessor, something the Kanrinin hadn't given much thought to. However, finding five of the Hinata-sou residents now gazing at considerably more skin than he was accustomed to showing was bringing the man out in a cold sweat not unlike the one upon the grey fox's brow. The fact two of the girls had mouths slightly ajar didn't help matters either.

Thankfully, a welcome distraction arrived just before the uncomfortable became embarrassing.

"Okay girls, show's over. Let's deal with what's important." Haruka swept past the silent group, followed quickly by Motoko. Who unwittingly did her own impersonation of a goldfish the moment she clapped eyes on Keitaro.

"Ah, Ura- Keitaro, perhaps you need to change?" Trying to ignore the shake in Motoko's voice and the flush adorning several faces in the hallway, Keitaro turned his attention to his 'aunt'.

"Haruka-san?"

"I've got things covered here." The stoic lady replied, laying a palm on Mitsune's forehead. "You should all go and get dressed in something fit to travel in." Five of those assembled looked down at themselves and silently agreed, each hurrying off to their respective rooms. Naru, meanwhile, remained sat beside the silent fox, now nervous for more than one reason. That was until Haruka gave her a tiny pat on the back, along with the quiet advice to 'stay calm'.

The ambulance had arrived soon afterwards, and while Naru travelled in it the rest of the residents decided that this was one situation it was worth braving Seta's infamous driving for. When they arrived at the hospital they found Naru staring blankly at a closed emergency room door, and a kindly but tired-looking nurse explaining that it was best that they wait in a side room until they had more news.

That was several hours ago.

Since that point the only news received were snatches of medical mumbo-jumbo – one nurse who had told the group Mitsune was in a 'serious but stable' condition was thoroughly lambasted by Haruka ("people say _I'm_ serious but stable, so what the hell does that mean?") – But nothing more firm had been forthcoming. Hence the pair stood outside, sharing a cigarette and staring at nothing in particular while trying with all their might to ignore what might be happening only meters away to a member of their surrogate family.

They didn't have to wait much longer.

"Guys, we've got news." Haruka called, striding out of the entrance. She stopped dead in her tracks and glared at Keitaro, while her 'nephew' grinned back at her sheepishly. "And take that cancer stick out of your mouth. They're not good for you." With a 'I'll deal with you later' look to Seta, the slim woman spun on her heel and walked back into the hospital, beckoning 'come hither' over her shoulder.

"I think we're in trouble." Keitaro muttered, dropping the almost spent cigarette to the ground and extinguishing it with his shoe. "But I think we'll be in more if we don't move our asses inside. Haruka's not the patient type."

"The quicker we get in, the quicker we find out." The taller man replied while quickly pacing towards the electric doors, his apprentice hurrying at his side, both balancing on the fine line between anticipation and dread.

--

--

Every pair of eyes in the room was fixed on a figure in a slightly rumpled blue tunic, who was starting to feel unnerved by the intensity of the attention she was receiving. It was a close run thing between the tan girl and the young lady with the fractured hand (someone the doctor was sure she had met before) for the award of 'most unsettling stare', but even the pre-teen brushing sleep out of her sky blue eyes was starting to get in on the act. Trying her best to stay calm and avoid fiddling with her stethoscope – something that she did instinctually when under pressure – the young doctor found herself hoping fervently that the ones 'Haruka' had gone to fetch were not far away.

It took a lot of control for the short woman not to sigh in relief when the lady in question strode back into the waiting room, soon followed by a pair of mousy-haired men. Idly wondering if they were father and son, the doctor tucked a stray red hair behind her head and cleared her throat.

"Hello, my name is Yukino Arima. May I ask if any of you are family?"

"No. But we're closer than any she does have." Naru replied, electing herself as spokesperson.

"I see. Well, normally I would only disclose to direct relations….." At the obvious indecision, Keitaro stood forward.

"Arima-sensei, I'm the manager of the Hinata-sou and we've lived together for the last five years. I know you can't tell us everything, but please……?" Bowing at the waist the Kanrinin internally crossed his fingers, desperate to learn the fate of the fox.

"Well, okay. She's stabilised, and we think she's not in any immediate danger."

"She's going to be okay?" Naru yelped, bolting out of her chair.

"She's not out of the woods yet, but we believe she'll recover." The entire group seemed to exhale the breath they were holding simultaneously, a unanimous display of relief. Naru sank back into her seat and let her head fall into her hands, shoulders shaking with relief. Mutsumi wrapped a comforting arm around her, while Su, Shinobu and Sara formed a quiet huddle of whispered words and hiccupping.

"What was wrong, Arima-sensei?" Keitaro asked, wondering how he was still standing when his legs had suddenly transformed into jelly.

"Well, from what I've heard from Narusegawa-san, Konno-san recently ceased drinking after doing so heavily for some time. Is that correct?" Receiving affirmative gestures from all of those still listening, the slim doctor nodded definitely. "Drinking a large amount is dangerous, but sometimes, stopping suddenly is even more so. The body goes into a type of withdrawal, which can be really nasty. I understand that Narusegawa-san does not know many details of how much alcohol Konno-san has been ingesting….."

"It must have been two or three bottles of sake a day. At least." Haruka stated bluntly, raking fingers though her dark haired scalp. "She's been having a few day-in, day-out for months, but the last few weeks she's put it away big time."

"Hmmmm. It seems our suspicions may well be correct."

"What about-" Glancing at the youngest residents still huddled together, Keitaro dropped his voice and moved closer to the doctor. "What about the bleeding? She definitely threw up blood, it was all over my lap."

"We'll perform a test to investigate when she's a little better. It may be traumatic secondary to vomiting, it may be the result of a stomach ulcer. But it's not bleeding dramatically at the moment, so we'll get things stabilised first."

"Can we see her?" Yukino turned towards Naru, who was still red-eyed but calmer than before.

"She can have visitors, but preferably no more than two. Although your friend is stable she's still not a well lady."

It was clear by the expression on the honey-haired girl's face that she was going to be one of those admitted. The rest of the assembled company glanced at one another, each individual trying to work out whether seeing Mitsune was worth the price, which was to accompany the emotional bomb that was an upset Naru Narusegawa.

Eventually the inevitable happened, and her fellow Tokyo-U student and one time boyfriend volunteered.

As the pair followed Doctor Arima into the emergency room, those left outside relaxed back into their respective seats with sighs of varying volume, as if belatedly remembering it was very late and that they should be somewhere else at that moment in time.

"I wonder if there are any beds in this place?" Sara murmured, feeling her eyelids begin to sink of their own volition.

"This is a hospital. I suspect that there may, in fact, be quite a number of beds here." Shinobu commented dryly from where she sat, arms folded, eyes scanning the bland off-yellow walls with tired disinterest.

"Har har. I mean are there any with my name on it?" The blonde American snapped back.

"It could be arranged….."

"Children, if I have to call a time-out….." Haruka threatened mildly, fighting the sandman with only limited success herself.

"I think it's time we went home." Seta commented from his position in the doorway, taking in the sight of Su and Motoko already slumped sleeping where they sat while the others present were trying their best not to join them.

"You're right." Standing slowly, Mutsumi stretched the stretch of someone who has been sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair for far too long. "What about Kei and Naru?"

"I reckon Naru won't be going anywhere tonight. It's her best friend laying in that bed, y'know? And if I know part-timer, there's no way he'll leave her alone." The tall archaeologist replied, moving to pick up Sara and indicating Haruka to awaken the others.

"Ara, I hope they're okay." The words were said with a hint of nervousness, nervousness which wasn't entirely born out of concern for her friends' wellbeing.

"I'm sure they will be." Seta calmly stated, lugging his adoptive daughter over his shoulder. The fact that Sara didn't complain indicated she was either used to it or just too tired to care.

"I hope you're right….." Glancing anxiously back at the closed door as she left, Mutsumi couldn't help but worry that several hours together with a comatose Mitsune would not be passed in silence.

--

--

After arriving home the group had shared a cup of their personal poisons in relative silence at the tea-shop, reflecting on the last twenty-four hours. Haruka had decided against offering a nip of something more potent than coffee, given the plight of the fox. It wasn't as if anyone would find any difficulty getting to sleep in any case; Sara was unconscious by the time she was half-way down her mug of hot chocolate, with Shinobu and Su hot on her heels. It was when Motoko almost face-planted into her tea that Seta mildly suggested the residents ascend the stairway while they still could.

After watching the drowsy bunch sluggishly sloping their way up what must have seemed like a mountain, Haruka closed and locked the teashop door, before turning all but one of the lights off. Only then did she reach behind the counter and draw out a bottle of sake and two glasses, which she set down on the one lit table with a solid 'clunk'. Taking the seat beside her husband the thirty-something lady wordlessly poured two single measures, sliding one across the smooth wooden surface to Seta, who received it with a nod of thanks.

"It feels harsh making them walk up all those stairs, especially in this weather." The archaeologist murmured, lifting the glass up and studying the liquid within by the lamp's solitary glow.

"No choice, unless they want to sleep on wooden chairs. We've only got one sofa, and it's hardly big enough for Sara let alone anyone else." Glancing up into Seta's angular, unshaven face, Haruka sensed the question without needing it voiced. "And yes. I've got every reason not to give a damn, but I am worried about that silly girl. I'm not completely heartless, believe it or not."

"Even after trying to evict her?"

"Don't get me wrong, I wanted her out. At the time I was so pissed with her antics that anywhere would do, so long as she wasn't here. Even now, I'd still prefer it if she found somebody else's time to waste." Swilling the amber fluid around the inside of her tumbler, the dark-haired Urashima continued in a reflective voice. "But some things are more important. We've known each other for coming on half a decade, after all. Just because I don't like what she's turning into, it doesn't mean I can stand by and watch her, well, die……" The quietly spoken word still rumbled like brewing thunder, carrying a chilling finality unsurpassed by any other.

In the corner, a clock ticked its way towards Three AM. A forceful gust of winter breeze echoed through the windows. Slightly louder than normal breathing punctuated the silence.

"Haruka……"

"Someone has to say what needs to be said. Someone has to keep them in line. They're all so wrapped up in their own little lives that they can't see what they're really doing to one another. Silly, silly girl……" The thick contralto voice faded into nothingness, and for several more ticks of the clock the only sounds were that of the wind and harsh breathing.

A chair creaked, and after a few seconds Seta's voice ended the pause, albeit far more tender than most who knew the professor would believe possible.

"You don't have to take responsibility all the time."

"I know." Came the response, accompanied by what might have been a tiny sniff.

"Come on, you're tired and it's been a long day. Time for bed." Seta murmured, arms draped over Haruka's shoulder, mouth alongside his wife's ear. "It'll let me do this without doing my back in." The response was a brief, slightly moist chuckle.

"This doesn't mean Mitsune is forgiven, you know. I still expect her to pay off every penny she owes." At the determined statement, Seta smiled.

"Point noted." The tall man helped his better half up from her seat, placing his arm around her shoulders as they paced towards the bedroom. "But you do know you don't have to act around me, right?"

"Are you saying I'm acting?" Haruka replied indignantly, although without genuine venom.

"Would I?" Seta replied, smile evident in his voice. The pair extinguished the final light and left the room, sliding the door shut behind them. As peace descended in the tea shop, a few words crept through the walls, softly spoken.

"……Seta?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Any time."

--

--

It had been worse than she had feared.

Naru shuddered as she leant on the railings outside the hospital; the very same Keitaro had reclined against hours before, studying the very same light. Mitsune had looked a little more, well, alive than she had slumped

upon the hardwood floor outside room 204. But not much. What was really awful to the young student was the array of wires and tubes passing to and fro, turning her friend into some bizarre parody of Frankenstein's monster. Lines into her hand, her arm, even her nose……add to that the incessant beeping of monitors, which both reassured the girl her friend was alive and reminded her that it might not have been the case.

The grey fox had awoken a few times, briefly, and clearly not quite all at home. On the first occasion Naru had spent the entire time clutching Mitsune's hand so tightly it turned white while blubbing into a tissue. The next couple of occasions were spent making clichéd platitudes and sweeping reassurances which were impossible to guarantee but comforting all the same. At about four in the morning the exhausted fox had drifted into something less like a coma and more like genuine sleep, which was when Naru decided to get some fresh air. Hence her position, elbows propped on the metal of the waist-high railing, head tilted back to allow her to examine the heavens. While her honey eyes scanned the clouds gathered in the skies above, denying her the chance of stargazing, the girl's mind was spinning at a furious rate.

So much had happened in the last month. When her soul-searching and posterior-kicking trip had ended, Naru had honestly thought things might return to some semblance of normal. What normal actually involved was a subject for debate, but what the girl hadn't expected was the hostility she had received. Deserved as it was, it had certainly shaken the young student. Then add to that the events of the last few hours……

Deciding not to think about it, Naru turned her attention to something else that was bothering her. Or, to be precise, someone.

No need to even say his name.

Conversation had hardly flowed like a river while Mitsune was unconscious. Understandably subjects such as the weather and studies seemed frivolous, yet it was as if the pair had absolutely nothing to say to each other.

Or possibly there was plenty to say, but the river was dammed by one huge barrier, one neither of them seemed brave enough to disturb.

But how to approach the subject? It had taken years of dancing around one another to finally bite the bullet the first time, and if Naru remembered rightly, she had at one point fled to the northernmost point of Japan in a quite stunning display of cowardice. If she'd gone that far to hide from the truth then, what about now, when life was even more awkward…..

"I was going to say it's a nice night, but to be honest it isn't." The young woman started as the focus of her confusion appeared beside her, pulling his heavy jacket more tightly around him when a particularly icy gust blew across the street.

"Yeah….." Naru trailed off, staring at the sinking clouds overhead as a substitute to eye contact.

"I'm glad Mitsune is probably going to be fine. I feared the worst for a minute there." Keitaro said lightly, although the tiniest tremor in his voice spoke volumes.

"It was worse in the ambulance. She started shaking again, and just wouldn't stop…..I don't think I've ever been more scared. It was just so horrible." The red-coated young lady dropped her gaze to her tremulous hands, clenching the left into a fist. "For a few seconds, I thought she might….."

"I-I thought so too." The man beside her admitted, himself feeling fear tightening his voice. For several seconds the pair stood a respectable distance apart, allowing themselves to contemplate the worst now that it was less likely to happen. Life without Mitsune, the Hinata-sou without its resident fox…..

……the family minus one of its sisters……

Suddenly, rejection didn't seem so terrifying any more.

"It makes you think, doesn't it?" Naru was surprised to find she was speaking, surprised she had a voice left to use. "I mean, we use the word 'forever' all the time, but sometimes 'forever' is not so long. The amount of times I promised Mitsune we'd always be friends…..When it could end at any given moment." Visibly trembling yet not from cold, the girl continued in a choked whisper, rivulets emerging from her honey eyes and trailing down her face. "I disappointed her before I left, I know I did. She warned me what I'd been doing would end badly, more than once. I wish I'd been wise enough to listen, or sober enough to remember……"

"Naru-san, that's behind you now."

"Is it, Kei-san?" The young lady gave a hollow laugh, holding her plaster-encased right hand out before her. "After all the talk I come home and proceed to make the same mistakes. If Shinobu hadn't been there, I don't know how this morning would have ended. I guess it takes more than weeks to break the habits of a lifetime." She ended matter-of-factly, sniffling slightly despite herself.

"Naru-san……"

"Anyhow, I'm getting off the topic." Swallowing once and dabbing at her face with an already wet tissue, Naru took inhaled deeply. "What I mean to say is……After tonight, I'm not going to run away. I want to know, Kei-san, do we have a chance?"

The breathing of the man beside her hitched as Naru closed her eyes, awaiting an answer. Eventually it came, halting and stilted, but in a tone that left no question.

"Naru-san, when I made my promise to you, I meant it. But…..every time I look in the mirror, I remember…..I remember that, try as I might, I can't trust you." A saddened sigh hung like mist in the night air, as the man gave a tiny shrug of resignation. "Like you said, it takes more than weeks to break the habit of a lifetime. Sorry Naru-chan, but I can't see a future with us in it. It's for the best."

"I…….Yeah, you're right." Naru replied, equally quietly.

"Sorry……"

"Me too." For several seconds which seemed to last a decade apiece, the pair gazed up to the heavens. Silently, two sets of eyes traced the first few flakes of snow drifting out of the leaden sky, heralding the imminent arrival of another arctic spell, while contemplating the future. Naru could feel a thousand things she wished she'd said burning in her throat but held them back, sensing at last that each word would be fruitless.

The point of no return had been passed. It was time to either stand and watch bridges burn, or walk onwards.

"So." Brushing her long locks back, the girl turned her attention to the man beside her. "What now?"

"Now…..I say we go and see Mitsune." Keitaro replied with forced casualness. "After that, I guess we'll just have to find out when it happens." Turning his mahogany gaze onto Naru the man cracked one of his trademark grins, one which was small but genuine. The young lady found herself returning it, bittersweet nostalgia bubbling beneath the surface. Once upon a time, she had been the focus of that smile. Now, she was going to have to accept that it would belong to someone else.

But at least she would see it now and again.

"Okay." Following Keitaro inside, Naru spared one last look up at the night sky and the increasingly dense cloud of flakes emanating from it. Holding in a half-sigh half-yawn the girl stepped into the relative warmth of the hospital reception, hoping that this snowfall would prove to be lighter than the last.

--

--

Tsuruko glanced at her watch, and then at the entrance to the Hinata-sou for what seemed to be the hundredth time. She had knocked politely on more than enough occasions, and then quite impolitely once or twice, yet the entire time her attempts at having someone grant her access to the house were unsuccessful.

Her wristwatch read half-past nine. Tsuruko, being the person she was, knew it was correct to the second. She had given notice of her intended attendance, and even chosen what she considered a very reasonable time given it was a Sunday. But all the same, nobody seemed to be up and about yet.

The elder Aoyama was becoming quite annoyed.

Patience was a virtue, one that she was renowned to possess in almost glacial quantities. Normally, being made to wait was nothing but an inconvenience to the young woman. The wintry weather was usually only of minor concern, and Tsuruko was confident that she could endure the very worst blizzard unscathed. Luggage was merely added weight, barely worth noticing given the strength instilled by a lifetime of training. But add all these factors together, then multiply by eight months of pregnancy, and include the fact the person in question was carrying a katana……

The door had no idea how close it was to dying a very brutal death when it was saved by a bleary-eyed Shinobu, who opened it dressed in a thick brown sweater that was obviously not hers.

"Just leave the post inside, thanks….." The girl muttered sleepily, breaking off into a huge yawn that allowed Tsuruko to see more of her throat than she would ever desire to.

"I think that you may possibly have me mistaken for someone else." As a tone frosty as the February morning filtered through her sleepy head, Shinobu woke up to the fact that a heavily pregnant woman was on the doorstep, looking less than impressed as the snowflakes swirling in the air settled themselves upon her raven head and the charcoal-grey travelling cloak secured around her torso.

Even when her profile mimicked that of a double decker bus, Tsuruko Aoyama was an intimidating sight. Especially when wearing an expression of serious ill humour.

Shinobu squeaked despite herself.

"Oh! S-sorry Aoyama-san." Bowing slightly, the diminutive girl backed out of the doorway and gestured the present head of the Shinmei-ryu inside. "Sorry for making you wait outside, I'm normally up and getting breakfast by now."

"And what of my sister?" Tsuruko asked, shedding her heavy cloak and shoes as she stepped into the relative warmth of the living room. "I trust Motoko does not frequently sleep in beyond this quite reasonable hour?" She continued archly, although with less annoyance than when she was stood out on the doorstep.

"N-no, she's usually awake." Tsuruko raised an eyebrow at the 'usually' but otherwise remained impassive as Shinobu continued. "It's just been a difficult last twenty-four hours. Mitsune's not been well….."

"Unwell?" After an abridged recital of events, the slim swordsmistress looked upon her young hostess with more sympathy. "I see. Well, I apologise for arriving at such a difficult time. May I stay and await the awakening of my dear sister?"

"Of course." Shinobu replied, happy to be on more friendly terms with the intense elder Aoyama. "Would you care for some tea?"

"That would be delightful." Whilst the brown-jumper-clad girl bowed slightly and hurried off to begin breakfast, Tsuruko allowed herself to relax into an almost meditative state. Using well honed skills, the mistress of the school began to taste the general mood of the house. The pervading air was that of anxiety, which was to be expected. But otherwise, picking anything else out from the tangled mess of emotion was impossible.

When she felt a migraine brewing, Tsuruko wisely ceased her aura analysis and settled back to simple meditation.

"Here you are, Aoyama-san." And was awoken from it almost instantly by Shinobu laying a steaming teapot and cup before her.

"Tsuruko, please Shinobu-chan."

"A-alright." Bowing once again, the girl excused herself back to the kitchen to continue preparing breakfast. It was blindingly obvious to Tsuruko that Shinobu knew something, given her faltering reluctance to be in her presence. While the elder Aoyama knew it would be no challenge to discover exactly what the meek schoolgirl knew, she didn't want to place her under duress. No doubt she would find out from Motoko herself soon enough.

The mother-to-be was confident she could anticipate what would be said, but wished to hear it from the horse's mouth. As for what her response would be…..

"Oneesan?" Glancing up from the cup of tea nestled in her hands; Tsuruko took in the sight of her younger sister drifting sleepily down the stairway. The obvious laxity in her manner and the absence of a blade at her waist merely confirmed the elder Aoyama's suspicions, but she made no mention of her observations.

"Ah, imoto-chan. Good morning. Would you care for a drink?" Gesturing to the tea set lain out on the table, the elder sister grasped a spare cup upon receiving an assenting nod, and poured while Motoko took the seat opposite.

"Thank you, Oneesan." Sipping at the hot liquid, Motoko was glad to find she was less nervous than expected. Perhaps it was the fact that, at thirty-six weeks along, Tsuruko didn't quite carry the same threat as the pedestal-placed figure that existed in her minds eye. She couldn't say she was relaxed, but knowing rejection was not the be-all and end-all it once seemed had lifted a great weight from the girl's shoulders.

"Is breakfast ready yet?" Sara muttered dozily from atop the stairs, brushing sleep out of her eyes, blonde head mussed by several hours of sleep. Taking in the pair sat opposite one another at the table, both dressed in kimonos of black silk, the American took a double-take. "Cor, have I got double vision or something."

"I feel that there is a very visible difference between Motoko and myself." Tsuruko remarked dryly, earning a chuckle from the youngest resident.

"Ya could say that. Anyhow, is anyone gonna answer my first question?"

"Ten minutes, Sara-chan." Shinobu's voice rang from the kitchen, turning Sara's expression into one of frustration as she plopped herself down in a free seat.

"Better not be any more, I'm just about ready to eat the damn table." The girl muttered, grasping the cup Motoko proffered with only the merest hint of appreciation. When Tsuruko conversationally mentioned the penalty for impoliteness at the table in the Aoyama household, the preteen hurriedly expressed her full appreciation in a loud voice before edging her seat slightly further away from the katana-wielding woman.

Mutsumi was eventually roused from her own stupor, although the Okinawan seemed more interested in her own fingernails than the culinary delights which Shinobu had crafted with typical skill.

If that wasn't odd enough, Su didn't arrive when the food did despite multiple calls.

Hence only five sat around the table, each trying and failing to pretend their minds weren't elsewhere. Eventually, when it became clear that appetites weren't exactly feverish that morning, the focus changed from eating to idle conversation made by people who would rather not face the rest of the day just yet.

Conversation that screeched to a halt at the sound of the front door opening.

Five pairs of eyes flashed to the opening, which admitted a windswept and sleepy-looking Naru who was intent on brushing every last hint of white from her person. For a few seconds the only other entrants were a few errant snowflakes which melted almost instantly upon contact with the warm air occupying the living room.

"Hey, Naru-chan, shut the door! You're gonna make us all freeze to death in here!" Sara called, shivering slightly as a little of the chill snaked an arm through the room and brushed its fingers across her shoulders.

"Calm down Sara-chan. The baka is right behind me. It's not my fault he can't climb a flight of stairs in the snow without slipping on every third step." The girl replied with annoyance, trying to get her honey hair back into some sort of order.

"His name's Keitaro, Naru-san." Shinobu cut in, voice cold.

"I know. Doesn't stop him from being a baka though." Naru huffed, just as the 'baka' in question made his own entrance.

"Aaaaagh, I think I wrenched my ankle on that last one….." The snow-sprinkled man began weight-testing the aforementioned joint, unwittingly becoming the centre of attention from everyone in the room.

Except one person. Who was currently studying the reactions of everybody else, both in terms of expression and aura. Giving Tsuruko all the information she needed to understand why Motoko wanted to speak with her, but also throwing up quite a few questions.

Important among them was the fact the response her sister had to Keitaro was mimicked to greater or lesser degrees by Shinobu, Mutsumi and even Naru, although it was greatly tempered.

"Sem-Kei, are you alright?" Shinobu hurried over to examine the hobbling man's ankle, receiving a smile and thanks for the attention.

"Any more news on Mitsune?" Motoko called from the table, standing slowly.

"Only that they're moving her to high dependency." Naru replied, shedding her red coat and gloves. "They think the worst has passed, but want to be sure. Doctor Arima said the fits can happen repeatedly for the first few days." For the good of herself and everybody else, the student chose to omit that the doctor had added 'which is why some people don't make it' to the end of the aforementioned sentence. Naru was sure the people present didn't want to hear it, and she herself was utterly certain she didn't want to say it out loud.

Thankfully, if Keitaro noticed her omission, he didn't mention it.

"Ara. Do we need to take anything in to Mitsune? Clothes, anything else?" Mutsumi asked quietly, pensive fingers drumming the table-top.

"Well, not so much at the moment. She'll need clothes when she's feeling better." Keitaro answered, removing his scarf but leaving his coat tied tightly around his torso. "I'm wondering if a couple of you could gather a few bits and pieces, just so she knows we're thinking of her."

"I'll pick some things up for her." His fellow Tokyo-U students answered almost simultaneously, before making silent eye contact. After a few seconds, the pair nodded.

"Once I'm done with that, I'm going to bed." Naru added drowsily, almost floating towards the stairway. "It feels like I haven't slept in a week."

"Well, you have been up all night." Motoko remarked. "Speaking of which……" The ebon-haired girl turned to look at her Kanrinin, brow furrowed. "Ura-Keitaro, do not tell me you are going back?"

"Yep."

"Ara?" Mutsumi turned her expressive mahogany orbs onto Keitaro, concern obvious. "Kei, you've been going for twenty-four hours straight, you need a rest."

"I'm fine." The man reassured, customary hand reaching for the back of his head as he realised he was the focus of attention. "Put it this way; Naru needs her sleep, Motoko has a guest and there's no way I'm letting anyone else out in this weather by themselves."

"Haruka-"

"Has a teashop to run, and has better things to do than sit beside a hospital bed all day." Keitaro concluded, suddenly looking serious. It was obvious his determination was partially derived from worry and partially guilt, but no-one wanted to argue.

No-one decided to argue.

"Well, if you insist." Naru shrugged, completing her ascent. "Mutsumi-san, are you coming?"

"Yes, Naru-san." Casting one last unreadable glance at Keitaro, the Okinawan strolled after Naru.

"I'm going with you, Kei." Shinobu's soprano voice sounded, with utter conviction. "Don't try and stop me, Mitsune's my friend as well. Also, if you're not going to let me go out alone, there's no way I'm letting you. You've already sprained your ankle, who knows what you could manage to do when the snow gets deeper." The petite girl finished, almost daring Keitaro to contradict her.

By now, the Kanrinin knew better.

"Just wrap up well. I don't want a flu epidemic on my conscience." As Shinobu hurried off to comply, Sara stepped in front of the bespectacled man with a cup of tea in her hands.

"Take your own advice, dork." The blond American offered the cup with a smile disguised as a sneer. "You go down with something and Papa's gonna have me stickin' junk back together in your place. I've got better things to do with my time." Keitaro accepted the badly concealed good deed with a smile, one that brought the faintest hint of a flush to Sara's face. Ducking away, the young girl declared her intent to find Su before making her own exit.

Sipping at his tea, Keitaro nodded in recognition to the latest visitor to the Hinata-sou. "Good morning Tsuruko-san. Apologies for not welcoming you sooner."

"It is not a problem, Keitaro-san." The mother-to-be replied, with ease which would surprise anyone who didn't knew the pair had been exchanging correspondence for some time.

"I take it you're well?"

"Beginning to wish the time would come, to be honest." Tsuruko said honestly, left hand massaging her swollen abdomen. "I suspect when the time actually arrives, however, I will wish most fervently that it were forever delayed. Anyhow, if you have a moment Keitaro-san, I would like to speak with you if I may."

"Certainly." With that, Keitaro followed the elder Aoyama towards the kitchen.

"Oneesan?" Motoko queried, unsure whether to follow.

"I shall not be long, Imoto-chan. Our discussion can wait for a few minutes more." With that the kitchen door slid shut, and Motoko was suddenly alone.

"…….." Slightly annoyed, the slim lady rested back against the table and ran fingers through her raven locks, suddenly wishing the conversation she had once hoped to defer forever would hurry up and begin.

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Plenty planned for the next chapter, including perhaps an answer to a question which (judging by the reviews) has been dogging lots of readers for some time...

'Til next time!

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	18. Chapter 18

Okay, it's been almost 4 weeks, and I apologise to anyone who has been waiting!

I'm not quite sure when the decision for this chapter actually arrived. I think it must have been at the moment Keitaro said 'no' to Shinobu, ever since then I've had an inkinling of what is going to happen. This chapter gives one of the two left standing an answer, at least for the time being...

It's fair to say I've drawn things out for long enough.

This chapter goes out to Tezza who has been a significant influence on my writing, Bob who has been a good friend and helpful voice and my wonderful fiancée who has not only put up with me spouting nonsense but also performed the onerous task of beta-reading this chapter.

Time to commence, methinks.

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Repercussions – Chapter 18

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Kaolla Su was doing something she had never done before.

Thinking.

Well, that's a bit incorrect. In truth, the hyperactive princess did more than her fair share of thinking. How else to explain the endless list of inventions which ranged from the wacky to the insane, each one of which was in some way ground-breaking or rules-of-physics bending. Or the knowledge and intelligence which could rival the best and the brightest Japan had to offer.

No, Kaolla Su was not unaccustomed to thinking.

Perhaps a better word would be _considering_.

Su had never been too bothered with the potential of her machinations. When she created something it was for fun, or a reason that made perfect sense for one single perfect moment when the context was right. She had never bothered with dull old practicalities; because they were so……dull.

But they didn't seem so boring the night before.

Hence Su was mooching in her favourite hammock, located in the very depths of her room. Lazily her two hands set to peeling a single banana almost of their own accord, while their owner stared up blankly at the mock-sky projected upon her ceiling. It had been one of her favourite creations, the panorama projector. Set the program to day or night, rain or shine and you would be greeted with whichever skyscape suited your mood. Normally the girl would have it set to something along the lines of 'Mediterranean Sunshine', or perhaps 'Tropical Storm' if something energetic was in order. Today, it was simply tuned to 'Wet Welsh Wednesday' – sunshine seeming out-of-place with her current mood.

Idly the tan figure slung a slim leg over the edge of her string cradle, letting out a very un-Su-like sigh. She could make a purpose-made sunset with the flick of a switch, or track a ronin to the edges of the earth with consummate ease. But when something actually _important_ came along…..

The girl huffed in frustration when the moments ran through her head for what seemed to be the thousandth time. She had frozen, yes. But in the seconds that followed, the girl had hurriedly scanned through each and every invention she could think of in the hope of finding some way of helping her comatose friend.

She had come up completely dry.

Everything had armaments, or radar, or loudspeakers. What they didn't have was anything actually useful.

For the first time in her life, Su had actually asked herself an important question. What was the point? Sure, lots of countries in the world would pay with blood for the kind of technologies she created. And no doubt, bits and pieces like her sky projector could make untold millions. Even the secret of how to turn what was at most a twelve-tatami-mat room into a tropical paradise would interest someone. All the same, it didn't seem to matter so much to the youthful princess when she realised that all the money and inventions in the world weren't half as much fun without people to share them with.

Rolling over in the hammock, the girl peered with aquamarine eyes at the mechanical mess strewn beneath her present resting place with uncharacteristic frustration. It had turned out that practicality was actually quite……impractical. The Molmolian had spent the morning reconstructing one of her later mecha-Tama models, one capable of taking on an Apache helicopter single-handed, and trying to make it useful for something other than total destruction on a grand scale.

One word could be used to sum her efforts thus far.

FAIL.

Not something Su was accustomed to, or could accept. So absorbed in her work had the girl become that her stomach had to remind her of her missed breakfast with a growl a ten-foot Bengal tiger would be proud of. Now, half a sheaf of bananas and much lounging later, the pile of wreckage and notes occupying the floor was not an appealing prospect. In fact, the tiny girl would rather scale Everest dressed only in sandals (again...) than go back to trying to deal with things like reality and practicalities.

The image of an unconscious figure forced a sigh from her lungs, and her body from its resting place. Picking up a wrench, Su barely registered the activation of her motion-sensors, indicating someone was brave (or stupid) enough to trespass into her room uninvited. Well, it was no problem, her security settings were on high alert and any intruder would be removed from the premises with extreme prejudice (and if they were lucky, all limbs intact). Therefore anyone who made it to her certainly wanted her attention, and probably deserved it too.

Reaching over to the seating unit and deciding to try fitting belts which were more suited to comfort than resisting six-G acceleration, the tan girl barely cracked a smile as the distant sound of high-pitched yelping and frantic running filtered through the tropical air, before the sound of a door slamming announced the exit of her unwanted visitor. She had enough to do without entertaining guests as well.

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"Make yourself at home, Imoutosan." Motoko intoned calmly, ushering her older sister into her room with a half-smile, one Tsuruko returned in full as she paced into Motoko's abode. Quickly the swordsmistress gave the living place an appraising scan, nodding in satisfaction as trained eyes took in her clean and neat surroundings. The present head of the Shinmei-ryu family had always appreciated tidiness, and no doubt her younger sister's room had been rearranged specially for her visit.

Tsuruko wasn't sure if she should be impressed or dismayed by the lengths Motoko would go to in order to avoid her wrath.

"Please, take a seat." Accepting her sister's offer but ignoring the gesture towards the one chair in the room, Tsuruko settled on her knees and smoothed the creases from her midnight-blue kimono with the ease of one utterly accustomed to doing so. Reaching down, the raven-haired woman unhooked her katana from its traditional place on her left hip and placed it flat upon the mat before her, hearing her sister's breathing pause as she did.

"Imoutosan, what are you……"

"Will you not join me, Oneechan?" Tsuruko remarked over her shoulder, voice betraying nothing. "After all, you requested an audience with yours truly, and I am currently resting in your room at your invitation. Perhaps any further conversation should take place in the correct manner, face to face?" Behind the kneeling woman Motoko stiffened, olive eyes creasing into an expression of worry. Determined not to freeze at such an important moment, the slim girl forced herself to walk around Tsuruko before assuming the same position opposite her, waiting for some indication that she could speak.

"Motoko-chan. The very fact you wished for me to journey to see you suggests the issue you wish to discuss is important. It also suggests the subject is one you would rather not have aired to the entire Aoyama clan. Am I correct?" The older woman summed succinctly, in a way that sent shivers up Motoko's spine. When answered by the merest of nods, Tsuruko continued in the same tone of calm confidence. "I feel my prompt arrival has confirmed my awareness that you are not, in fact, merely inviting me for a sisterly chat over tea and cake. So pray tell, Oneechan, what is it that you wish to bring to my attention?"

Motoko glanced from her sister's picture-perfect expression of patient interest to the sword laid like a declaration before her, and swallowed urgently as the facts became clear.

_She knows._

"Ah, Oneesan, I just wanted to….."

"I suggest you do not procrastinate, Imoutochan. The truth will not change over the course of but a few seconds." A thinly veiled edge in her older sister's voice halted Motoko's stumbling in an instant. Knowing Tsuruko to be right, the young woman took a deep breath and all the courage she could find.

"Oneesan, I…..I wish to renounce my place as heir to the Shinmei-ryu." The younger woman forced herself to hold the steady stare which pinned her like a butterfly to the wall. "I feel my future is not in the way of the sword, but academia. It is not a decision I have arrived at lightly."

"I see." Tsuruko stated blandly, voice cool. "What of the school? It is not merely your future you are altering by making such a declaration." Gesturing to the katana before her, the pregnant lady frowned minutely at her sister. "Surely you realise the lineage of the school would be placed in jeopardy by such an act?"

"And what of it?" Motoko replied just as blandly. "Why does the Shinmei-ryu rest upon my shoulders? Who decreed it my burden and mine alone to bear?"

"It is the way it is." Came the simple answer, although the frown on Tsuruko's face was now far less minute.

"Was." Sensing her sister about to speak Motoko held up a firm hand, feeling a confidence she could never remember possessing. "Something I have always wondered, Oneesan. Why is it that you have to give up the school to me? What immaculate doctrine bestowed this divine judgement?"

For the merest of moments, Tsuruko did something her sister had never known her to do. Hesitate.

"Imoutochan, the decision has been made….."

"By who?" Staring into the familiar face of her sister, the older woman knew the tables had turned.

"It is the way of the school." Seeing a hint of accusation creeping into the olive eyes opposite, Tsuruko held up a placating hand. "The eldest female member of the Aoyama family who has not wed is destined to take over the role unless it is decreed otherwise. Hence, I am currently a placeholder until you ready to assume your position as head of the Shinmei-ryu."

"What prevents you from continuing?" Motoko asked, tone clipped and direct.

"I have already stated the reason, Motoko-san. It is the way of the school, and as a result not my decision."

"It is."

Tsuruko blinked at the sudden statement from her sister, before her eyes narrowed slightly. "Sister, I believe you are mistaken. This decree had been in place for generations, and as it was made by the founding head of the house it is law. It is out of my hands." Instead of the resignation she had expected to see from the younger woman, Motoko had narrowed her own eyes until barely a silver of green could be seen from between the lids.

"Oneesan, who is the head of the Shinmei-ryu at present?"

"We both know the answer to that question, Imoutosan." Staring blankly at the lady opposite her, Tsuruko wondered where Motoko was going with her line of question.

"Then am I correct in saying that it could, in fact, be your decision?" The younger Aoyama stated, arms folded defiantly. "Being head of the school places you in a position where you have the right and the power to make important choices. Such as who is to be the next leader, and when." Leaning forward, Motoko took care to enunciate each word with utter conviction. "I am _making_ it your decision, Oneesan. I am requesting that the current head of my school overlook the heir apparent, and either retain the title or select another. This is all I have to say on the matter." Gazing keenly at her sister, the kimono-clad student detected a flicker of surprise breaking through Tsuruko's impassive mask. It was almost instantly back in place, this time with overtones of anger, but not before Motoko knew her words had struck home.

"I see." The mother-to-be stated, in a way that suggested whatever she 'saw' was far from pleasant. The following silence almost buzzed with tension, occupied by a staring contest which would have sent any onlooker scurrying from the room in fear of their life.

"So?" Motoko prompted, patience wavering.

"…..You expect me to make such a judgement on the spur of a moment?"

"To paraphrase, I suggest you do not procrastinate, Oneesan." Motoko stated coolly.

"I am unwilling to be rushed into giving you an answer purely because you lack patience, Imoutosan. Perhaps the absence of responsibility in your life has left you unaware of the price one may pay by making spur-of-the-moment decisions." Came the reply, equally chilly in tone.

"Be that as it may, my decision is one I have considered long and hard. It is not one amenable to change." Annoyed by Tsuruko's evasion, the younger Aoyama pushed on. "I wish to know my fate now, not in the indeterminate future."

"You must insist, must you not? Fine, but remember my response is not the considered statement I would wish it to be." The blue-clad figure cast a glance to the ceiling, eyebrows creased in thought. Eventually she came to a decision, and faced her sister once again with a solemn expression. When the words came they were quiet and resigned, but firm. "I understand your desires, but do not wish to go against the wishes of my ancestors, Imoutosan."

Motoko felt her blood run cold.

"Is that your final decision, Oneesan?" She asked, suddenly breathless.

"If you wish my decision to be made now, yes." Tsuruko answered, face and voice calm. "I would appreciate more time to consider things, but my thoughts are currently proceeding along that path. It is your choice, Imoutosan."

Faced by the options of a certain 'no' and a probable 'no', Motoko decided that waiting a short time couldn't hurt. It would at least give her time to accept her future as a ronin in more ways than one.

"Well, I will allow you time to consider your decision. But please do not take too long in your considerations, Oneesan. The sooner I know of my fate, the sooner I can make plans for the future." Her older sister raised an eyebrow at the oddly resigned statement, but decided not to comment.

"Very well. I shall let you know within a few days." Deciding the conversation was over, Tsuruko eased to a standing position with grace unbecoming of someone apparently due to give birth at any given time. "I will take my leave now, Imoutochan. Good day to you."

"Good day, Oneesan." Her younger sister answered automatically, sight and thoughts obviously already elsewhere. It took Motoko some time to realise her sister had not left, and was instead half-turned in the doorway, regarding her with an odd look. "Oneesan?"

"I know why you are doing this, Imoutochan. Or should I say 'for whom'?" Six months previously, Motoko would at least stammered out a denial, and at most vehemently (and probably violently) decried such a statement. As it was her reply was merely a few words.

"Then you will know that my mind is made."

"I have a simple question for you, Motoko-chan." Tsuruko paused briefly, as if considering her choice of words. "I believe I am growing to understand the depths of your affection for your dear Kanrinin. But what would you do if your feelings are not returned, or he only has eyes for another?"

For the merest second, the raven-haired girl knelt upon the floor felt her breath hitch in her chest and her mouth fill with sand. It was the work of a moment to gather her composure, and voice the certainty she knew to be true.

"I would stay by his side all the same, Oneesan. In whatever capacity I may." Her older sister studied her for several seconds, before nodding.

"I see." With that the woman spun on her heel and left the room, casting a farewell over her shoulder as she did so. Within the room, Motoko remained in place, staring blankly at one of the plain white walls which made up her personal space. The ex-swordsmistress had no doubt in her decision, none whatsoever. She was content to stay in this place, with the people she knew and loved, with the man she loved. However that may be possible, in whatever role she may have to occupy.

So why was that, despite this solemn vow, the thought of Keitaro being with someone else had the power to chill her soul so completely?

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Shinobu had been, to put it bluntly, shocked at the sight that greeted her upon arrival at the hospital. After being directed down endless corridors and through enough doors to replace every single specimen destroyed in the Hinata-sou over the past half-decade, she had eventually arrived at a door marked 'HDU'. Despite Keitaro's warnings, seeing a close friend tangled like an insect in a web of criss-crossing wires and tubes was not a pleasant sight. After her first glance a rather strict-looking nurse, whose appearance suggested she could eat the diminutive girl for breakfast and then have Keitaro for dessert, had ordered her to wash her hands before approaching the bedside.

The violet-ette had taken the opportunity to try and calm down, something she achieved semi-successfully with Keitaro's hand on her shoulders. And so it was that the pair had settled beside Mitsune's bed and were currently trying to work out where to hang the picture they had brought with them.

"D'you think we could hang it above the bed?" The ex-ronin asked, gesturing towards the ceiling. "She'd be bound to see it there."

"What would we hang it from?" Shinobu replied, scanning the bare surface above her. "There's nothing to tie it to, and I reckon the nurse wouldn't like something dangling from a string which had been blu-tacked to the roof."

"Yeah, I guess." Keitaro sighed, dropping his gaze back to the bed. "Besides, it probably contravenes some health and safety regulation or other. To be honest, even breathing probably breaks some health and safety regulations….."

"How about at the end of the bed?" The girl pointed to the foot end of Mitsune's current resting place, seemingly not noticing that once again there was nothing to actually affix the picture on to.

"Don't think that'll work." Peering around the bed space, the bespectacled man shook his head. "On the regular wards they've got bedside tables, but they seem to be in short supply around here."

"Hmmmmm." Shinobu gestured to the frame of the bed at the comatose fox's head end. "There? Enough space, and it's close by as well."

"But it's behind her….."

"She can turn round, can't she?"

"How about on that thing by there?"

"Nah, the notes are kept on there. It'd be in the way."

"Do you have any better ideas?" Keitaro and Shinobu paused in their bickering, levelling glares which were more amused than annoyed at one another.

"Ohhhh, guys, keep it down would ya….." Instantly losing interest in their mock-argument, both visitors turned to the bed to find dull eyes peering at them from between slitted lids. Normally Mitsune would have found some way to wise-crack at the matching expressions of shock she received, but at that moment in time the fox couldn't even crack stupid.

"M-Mitsune-san?" Shinobu demonstrated her ability to state the obvious with typical aplomb.

"Gawd. I feel rotten. Ugh…." Fighting the urge to retch, the prone girl began to take in the numerous attachments and tried to work out which were making her less than comfortable. She could think of one instantly that she would rather not have, but given where it was decided to leave it well alone. The most annoying one was something which was giving her nose hell and obstructing her throat. Blearily she reached up to give it a tentative tug, only to find her grasping fingers restrained gently by a warm palm.

"Leave it be, Mitsune-chan." Opening her eyes a fraction more, Mitsune took in the anxious face of her Kanrinin as he held her wayward hand gently.

"Kei-kun." She murmured, suddenly a lot more awake.

It was the matter of moments before her body realised she was, in fact, fully alert. As it began sending a variety of unpleasant messages of various types and priorities, the fox sincerely wished it hadn't.

"Ohhhh gawd….." It was nothing more than a moan, but it conveyed a lot judging by how Shinobu leapt to her feet and announced her intention to find the 'hefty' nurse. Wondering with the few brain cells not occupied by her present predicament how her nurse came to be known as 'hefty', Mitsune instead focussed on the man still at her bedside, and still holding her hand. "Hiya Kei-kun. Lookin' well." The girl croaked, mouth dry as a tinder box.

"Wish I could say the same for you." Replied Keitaro, with a completely different kind of dryness.

Mitsune gave a throaty chuckle, and instantly wished she hadn't.

"Remind me not to – ulp….." To the Kanrinin, the sound of Mitsune retching was far too familiar, yet no easier to ignore. Aimlessly, the man rubbed her shoulder and waited for help to arrive.

Soon as it did, Mitsune needed no further explanation as to why her nurse was referred to as 'hefty'.

"If you would step outside, please?" The large woman stated in a tone which brooked no argument, before drawing the curtains firmly closed in the faces of the evicted pair. Briefly they shifted again as a man with a stethoscope slipped through them, and then the only input from within was the murmuring of hushed conversation.

Blinking slowly at the floral-patterned fabric inches from his nose, Keitaro turned slowly to look down at Shinobu as she mirrored his actions.

"Wait outside, maybe?" The diminutive girl offered, shrugging her narrow shoulders.

"Sounds good." Allowing Shinobu to lead, Keitaro followed her to the 'relatives room' and the welcome cup of coffee it would inevitably contain.

It transpired the relatives' room was a comparatively comfortable place, the only one Keitaro had seen in the hospital with a carpet and sofas rather than chairs. Decked out in a tranquil shade of blue with seascapes adorning its walls from their dark wooden frames, it would actually have been quite pleasant were it not for the pervading scent of bleach, an odour capable of penetrating even the most potent of air fresheners.

Without prompting Shinobu whipped up two cups of coffee (white, one with sugar, one with sweetener) and the pair reclined on a semi-comfortable settee, sitting side-by-side in companionable silence. Sipping at her drink, the teenager allowed her shoulders to tilt until they came into contact with those of the man beside her. As they did, Shinobu let an ever so slightly rueful smile pass her lips when Keitaro shifted slightly to ensure she was comfortable before relaxing himself.

"Nice to hear her voice isn't it?"

"Mmmmm." Keitaro agreed vaguely, eyes fixed but obviously unseeing on the curtain-shrouded window before him.

"Hope this means she'll be okay….." The petite girl added, awaiting a response. None was forthcoming.

Blowing across the surface of her hot drink, Shinobu took the opportunity to study the man she rested against. Tired, yes, that was to be expected. Tense as well, but in all honesty the girl could understand that. But on top of that, there was an odd sense of brooding emanating from her Kanrinin. For a moment Shinobu weighed up whether to enquire or not, until her natural desire to help won out.

"Something wrong, Kei?" Turning slightly red as she realised that was a question which could officially be classed as 'stupid', the girl stammered out an amendment. "More than the obvious, I mean…."

"Mmmmmm?" It took time, but Keitaro gradually seemed to remember he was still in the room and not alone. "Oh, sorry Shinobu. What was that?"

"Is there something wrong?" Shinobu repeated, now sure that there was but keen to find out exactly what.

"Ah, it's nothing." Sensing from the violet stare that his friend wasn't going to believe his rubbish lie, the Kanrinin shook his head. "Honestly, it's nothing that big. It's just something Tsuruko said to me earlier today, something that made me think." Looking down at Shinobu's now worried face, the man managed to squeeze out a smile. "Don't worry about it, Shinobu. It's nothing terrible, just thought provoking….."

"Urashima-san? Maehera-san?" The nurse called from the doorway, interrupting the conversation. "Konno-san is settled now, if you wish to see her?"

"Is she alright?" Shinobu asked anxiously, squinting slightly at the broad figure silhouetted against the brightness of the hallway outside.

"It's common for people to feel sick after something like this." The older woman replied, entering the room and favouring the nervous girl with a surprisingly gentle smile. "We've given her something for it, and to make her comfortable. She's awake at the moment, but don't be surprised if she doesn't stay that way for very long."

"Thank you…..?" Keitaro trailed off, realising he had no idea who he was talking to.

"Just call me Haruhi." The lady now known as Haruhi replied, still smiling.

"Well, thank you Haruhi-san." After bowing slightly, the Kanrinin accompanied the nurse back to the ward and his ill friend, Shinobu at his side.

The pair re-took their seats at the bedside, their movement rousing the fox from the light doze she had slipped into. For several moments the group merely looked at one another, suddenly bereft of anything to say.

It was Shinobu who broke the silence.

"Mitsune-san, I-I'm glad you're okay….." She quietly began, leaning forward to grasp one of the pale hands laying motionless on the bed. "Just promise me, please, promise me. Promise me you'll never scare me like that again……" The girl's voice broke as life caught up with her, her head drooping and eyes filling. Mitsune could only watch on with a depth of shame she had never experienced as her friend hiccuped quietly, sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with a tissue magically conjured from one of her long blue sweater sleeves.

As Keitaro swept the girl into his arms with a confidence Mitsune didn't know he possessed, the grey fox felt her own throat tighten and her eyelids prickle. A few minutes ago she could have sworn it was impossible to feel any worse. It turned out she was wrong.

"Ah gawd, I'm sorry kiddo." She ground out, throat growing even tighter than before. "Didn't mean to worry y'all." In response Shinobu blew her nose, emitting a very-unladylike honking noise.

"You didn't do it on purpose." The younger girl dabbed gingerly at her eyes, now sniffling with a little more feminine grace.

"Don't make me any less sorry though." Mitsune muttered, exhaustion and shame beginning to take the high toll their presence demanded.

"Mitsune-chan..." The Kanrinin loosened his hold on Shinobu, looking on with concern as his bed-bound friend allowed her head to flop back despondently onto her pillow, tightly closed eyelids unable to retain the liquid they contained.

"Dammit, what a mess." She whispered huskily, not even bothering to brush away the moisture seeping down her face. "A bankrupt, homeless drunkard, stuck in a hospital bed. What a waste of space." The woman would have pounded the mattress in frustration, if it weren't for the fact it seemed pointless.

"Mitsune-chan, it'll be okay. Honestly." Keitaro pledged, earning a defeated sigh in reply.

"I wish, Kei-kun. I wish……" With that Mitsune slipped back into the comforting haze of unconsciousness, leaving the visiting pair to gaze at one another with matching expressions of concern.

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It was late. Again.

Keitaro couldn't help but feel, as he lay on his back on his temporary bedding, that he'd seen far too much of late recently. First the whole saga with Naru, during which he'd seen more witching hours than an entire coven. Following that, the eviction and subsequent re-housing of his waylaid tenant, and his movement from comfortable futon to semi-comfortable sofa. Even in his brief stint sleeping in the living room, Keitaro had grown to understand how useful having an actual bedroom was. Not only did you not have to wait for everyone else to hit their respective sacks before you went about hitting your own, but if someone needed a glass of milk/sandwich/banana smoothie at random O'clock it generally didn't bother you too much.

When Kaolla Su was blending in the room next door, sleeping was an impossibility.

And then, last but not least, the craziness which was the last thirty-six hours. An early awakening via the index finger of his ex-promise girl, a long day persuading Motoko to bite the bullet concluded with a trip to the hot spring, and a lot to mull over even before Shinobu's panicked shrieking had rent the night air.

Any thoughts of catching up with missed winks were abandoned seconds later.

Visiting Mitsune had turned out to take much of the day – getting to the hospital through the thickening snow was a trial in itself, and later on in the day Seta had arrived with a small army of well-wishers (minus Naru who was still sleeping and Haruka who at that point didn't want to wish well – 'In case she thinks I've let her off the hook'). It was evening by the time the Hinata-sou crew had returned, by which point the Kanrinin was well and truly wasted. Thanks to some co-operation from Shinobu he had slunk off for a bath while the young chef set everyone available to work cleaning what used to be his room.

Keitaro had only anticipated a relatively brief soak before dinner, but the longer he spent in the increasingly tepid water the less desire he had to get out. Partially because he had a lot he wanted to think about, but also because the man knew he would be the metaphorical sitting duck if he'd joined the dinner table.

Tired didn't quite cut it any more. Exhausted only brushed the surface.

Keitaro was well known for being easy to see through, almost to the point of transparency. But the man instinctively knew that this evening he wasn't even capable of the tiniest, whitest of lies, or the feeblest of denials. Hence, he chose to steep in the water until his skin had a prune-esque consistency to rival that of a mummified corpse. Until the sounds of movement had all filtered away, until the late-departing Shinobu had quietly called to him that his food was in the fridge and that if he stayed out any longer he'd end up in hospital as well.

She was right, so he'd promptly slipped out of his tub and into his dressing gown.

Upon entering the hallway he almost walked straight into the violet-haired teen, who upon questioning had simply told him she was waiting to make sure he was okay.

It might have been tiredness rearing its head, but the simple display of kindness had touched Keitaro much more deeply than he thought possible. It had taken several minutes and a particularly warm hug, but by the time Shinobu had bade him goodnight with a few soft words and a friendly peck on the cheek the Kanrinin had recovered his scrambled wits enough to allow him to descend the staircase safely.

Hence his current position, lain on his back and studying the ceiling boards, all the while wishing devoutly that the exhaustion gripping his body and mind would relax it's hold enough for him to actually sleep. The shifting of cushions beneath his back didn't help matters, and it seemed that whatever position Keitaro tried to assume he would inevitably be sucked back into the depths of the sofa, slipping down the crevice that existed between the cushions and the backrest.

So far he had found fifty yen down there, but no sleep.

The man had even tried laying on his front, but when he realised he was pressing his face into the same cushions which had supported various posteriors for the last who-knows-how-many years, he had abandoned the idea with significant speed. After much tossing and turning the Kanrinin had given up on sleeping at any imminent moment, and settled down to study the empty darkness while he waited for his mind to settle.

Thanks to Tsuruko, it showed no signs of doing so. It had only been a few words that they had shared in the kitchen that morning, but they were food for significant thought. The elder Aoyama, after several rounds of evasive conversation had placed her hands on hips, and fixed him with a look he had no hope of avoiding. When she was sure of his attention, the swordsmistress had spoken words that could no longer be avoided or denied.

"_You need to make your decision, even if it is not conclusive. To continue down this current path would only do harm to yourself and others, cause stagnation and indecision. Make your decision and allow life to move on."_

Keitaro had allowed himself to really think for once, now that his time with Naru was less a malevolent shadow and more a painful memory. It had taken time, but things were becoming clearer and clearer. One moment in particular strayed repeatedly to the forefront of the Kanrinin's mind, one he had replayed a hundred times, on each occasion causing him to almost physically wince. He wasn't sure precisely why initially, but with each passing minute was just beginning to understand……

"Kei?" Although the feminine voice which entered his ears was barely above a whisper, Keitaro was so wrapped up in his own world that the presence of another came as quite a shock.

"Ah!" Barely maintaining his position on the sofa he squinted myopically through the darkness, trying to identify his nocturnal visitor. As it was, she did the job long before Keitaro's short-sighted eyes could.

"Ara, are you awake?"

"Uh, yeah." At his response the hazy figure slowly approached until long, mussy bed hair and wide mahogany eyes were identifiable through the darkness. Mutsumi stopped only inches away from the sofa, fingers working at the hem of her pyjamas.

"Kei…..couldn't sleep?" The girl asked in a faint monotone.

"Guess not. Why are you still up?" Keitaro replied, easing himself up into a sitting position.

"I-I can't sleep either." Mutsumi nervously stood in place for a moment, before continuing in the same meek tone. "I felt the desire for some fresh air, and was wondering if you would join me….."

For once in his life, Keitaro didn't even hesitate.

"Sure." Scooping up handfuls of linen in order to retain his warmth, Keitaro followed Mutsumi to the front door, clicking on the outside light as he passed. After a moment spent donning footwear the Okinawan stepped brazenly into the winter night, foregoing her coat and gloves. Joining the young lady in the shallow porch, the man used the soft glow emitted by the doorway lamp to examine his nocturnal visitor more thoroughly. Swathed only in plain blue cotton pyjamas with errant snowflakes already adorning its surface, the Okinawan could have quite rightly been described as beautiful if it weren't for her expression.

Which was a hundred years too old for the face wearing it.

Eyes harried and anxious, a mouth accustomed to smiling dragged downwards at each corner by irresistible gravity. Even the silken mahogany locks which were normally drawn into a sleek ponytail were allowed to hang wayward around her ears and neck. Keitaro felt the normal tidal movements of his chest halt for the briefest second, memories of a conversation in hot spring floating into his mind. It took some time for the Kanrinin to realise he was staring, at almost the same moment Mutsumi realised she was doing exactly the same thing right back at him. After a pair of faint blushes, the two returned to surveying the scene until their embarrassment passed.

Within moments of breaking eye contact Keitaro noticed his friend beginning to tremble in the frigid breeze, trembling shoulders beginning to grow damp beneath the swirling snowfall. Unthinkingly he cast some of his blanket around the Okinawan who wound tightly into them with the briefest of smiles, bringing herself closer to him in the process.

Silence began to take hold, one heavy with potential and laced with apprehension.

"Ara. It's been a long few days ne, Kei?" Mutsumi eventually voiced, contralto reflective.

"I feel like I could sleep for a week. At least until I actually _try_ to that is." Came the reply as Keitaro stared at the lamp illuminating the wintry darkness with tired disinterest. "Wish I could. It's almost like my mind is running in a different time zone, and the rest of me is waiting for it to catch up."

"What are you thinking about?" Lulled by the Okinawan's soft tones, Keitaro sighed gently.

"Just stuff. Mitsune, Naru, Motoko….." The Kanrinin drifted off into silence, missing the look flashing across his partner's face. "So much going on, I'm not quite sure what I'm doing any more."

"I-I see." It took some time, but the desolation carried in such a simple statement eventually trickled into Keitaro's consciousness. Casting a glance at the girl beside him from the corner of his eye, the slow poison that was dread trickled into his blood as memory came to the forefront again.

The man had only ever seen that look on Mutsumi's face once. It was the day before, and it had appeared only seconds before the Kanrinin had his heart frozen in his chest. It was the sign of rain about to fall on what should be a sunny day.

Keitaro panicked.

"N-no! Honestly, I didn't mean that! Well, not only that, there's more, but I didn't want to say it….." The words came out in a jumbled rush, the speaker desperate to defer the inevitable.

Mutsumi was too far immersed in sorrow to care.

"What didn't you want to say, Kei?" The girl mumbled, morose brown eyes fixated on the blanket curled within her hands.

"I didn't want to say……" Keitaro halted, realising what he was about to say could tilt his entire world on its head. Mired in indecision, he glanced up at Mutsumi, hoping to convey his message without words.

Mutsumi, for her part, let her head bow further and her moist eyes close.

"I understand. You don't need to say any more, it's all perfectly clear." The girl took a ragged breath, teeth biting her lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood. "Please, forgive me for disturbing your night. I'll go now….." Making to leave, Mutsumi didn't even remove herself from the embrace of Keitaro's blankets before the storm of bitter loneliness arrived. Cold as the February night she found herself stood beneath, its winds came too quickly and too ferociously for her to retreat to a private haven. Within moments it overcame her, weakening her knees and dropping her face to her hands, forcing water from eyes unable to restrain them.

For the second time Keitaro felt something within him shatter, as the sight which haunted him relentlessly was reprised in the spotlight of his horrified gaze.

Mutsumi's tears.

Unable to move or even blink, the man watched them fall as if in slow motion, the descent of each one driving yet another nail into his heart.

When he had first experienced the same sensation of exquisite horror, Keitaro had wondered why it struck him with a force capable of driving the breath from his chest and the heat from his body. His first thought was that it was because it was just so……wrong. So incongruous. That tears from eyes which always smiled somehow meant much more. Shock at seeing a beautiful face disfigured by sadness that didn't belong.

But then, over the last twenty-four hours, his thoughts had begun to change. Was it purely that crying was something Mutsumi shouldn't be doing, merely concern for a friend in need?

Or was it…..something more?

The truth wasn't an epiphany which suddenly arrived amidst a choral fanfare, or the clearing of trumpets. It had simply slipped into the corner of his mind unnoticed, taken root and waited. The moment Mutsumi was overcome, the moment a clawed hand seized his stomach and squeezed, was the moment Keitaro truly understood what he'd known for some time.

"Mutsumi….please stop……" The Kanrinin choked, throwing caution to the wind and his arms around the sobbing girl beside him.

"…..Kei?"

"I'm such a damn coward. A stupid, stupid coward." Keitaro rambled on, exhaustion and self-loathing burning the last of his pretences away. "Tsuruko was right, what good can hiding do? Why didn't I just open my eyes and see who was there in front of me? Who's been there the whole time? It's caused nothing but pain, all because I've been too damn afraid to come out and say something!"

"Kei, what are you saying?" Dark eyes wide and suddenly focussed, Mutsumi brushed her flushed cheeks dry before reaching up and extending the same courtesy to the man who held her within his grasp.

"I've been ignoring it all, hoping I'd never have to put myself on the line again…...And all it's done is made the one I care for suffer……" The man's flow of scattered thoughts slowed when a soft hand reached out to cup his face, the girl whom it belonged to staring at him with an expression of incarcerated hope.

"Please." Mutsumi almost pleaded, now trembling with something other than cold. "Please, tell me exactly what you mean."

"I-I mean……" Breaking off, Keitaro forced himself to take a deep breath and really look at the girl before him. At the round and gentle face, the glistening mahogany eyes which never held a hint of malice. As if sensing the moment the fingers cupping his face traced the line of his jaw, a sweet warm touch he could never remember experiencing before. Tender, loving, so different from that which had marred his face and his life over an eternal half-decade.

The words suddenly came with an honesty only spoken by the utterly weary.

"It hasn't been long since everything went wrong with Naru, not like things were ever right to begin with. Through it all we've always been friends, and you've been a better one than I deserved. I wish it hadn't taken me so long to see what has been in front of me the whole time...I really care for you Mutsumi, and I think that…..no, I know that...I want to be with you..."

The words, spoken hesitantly in a hoarse voice, rang like a chiming bell through the winter's night.

For several long seconds, not a move was made or a word spoken. Two figures gazed at one another, as if to blink would be to break the spell woven by a stuttering yet honest declaration of love.

Mutsumi was the first to crack, as her lips made the tiniest movement upwards.

"Ara...Kei, I know you don't want to say it out loud. Not after everything you've been through. But I can." Reaching up and tilting Keitaro's head forwards, the Okinawan eased up until her pouting lips touched those of her beloved. Revelling in the deep warmth of affection, the girl held the kiss for a far longer than she ever had as if in confirmation. After some time she pulled back ever so slightly, allowing her deep chocolate irises to meet those of the man she had just claimed as her own. "I love you. I have for what seems like forever. I don't need you to say anything to me now. If you can show me you feel the same, I can wait to hear it as long as it takes..."

For several seconds the only movement was that of white flakes carried on the Arctic breeze. Until Keitaro's face tilted downwards, closing the gap between the two figures to the point where lips met for the second time.

Pulling apart, Keitaro gazed down at the woman in his arms with an expression of genuine happiness. At that moment, nothing he had ever known seemed quite as beautiful as her. Honest face candid as an open book, dark eyes sparkling with a light that could not be attributed to the sparse illumination from a single bulb. Full lips elevated into an angelic smile, hands which seemed to make his skin glow through the merest contact. Idly he brushed a few wayward specks of white from her hair, revelling in the blissful sensation as his fingertips swept through silken locks.

Instinctively the pair drew one another close once again, both turning their heads to gaze out at the ebon framed scene before them. White clouds swirled beneath the lamplight, air currents twisting their passengers into a unique and unforgettable dance, cast upon the canopy of skeletal trees barely visible in the distance.

Eventually, Mutsumi turned her face back towards the one she loved, something approaching her normal blissful smile in place on her mouth.

"Kei, would you join me in my room tonight? I'm not asking for anything, it's just that it'll be a lot more comfortable than that tired old sofa in there..." For the briefest time it seemed the man was about to decline. Thankfully, Keitaro considered it for long enough to bypass his reflexes.

"O-Okay, Mutsumi." Meekly the man held a hand out to the girl before him, who grasped it with the certainty of one never intending to let go.

"Come on, Kei." Pulling the man inside, the doors closed behind them with a definite 'bang'. For a few moments longer the indefatigable dance of winter went on, visible beneath the solitary glow of a single bulb, whose role was now defunct.

After a single click the night was pitch once more, as the sound of ascending footsteps gradually faded to silence.

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...Now I'm prepared for a beating...

Chapter 19 already in progress, if I haven't just lost half of my readers!

'Til next time.

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	19. Chapter 19

Blinking sleep out of her eyes, the prone figure momentarily studied the ceiling above her, as if surprised to see it

Chapter 19 at last.

I'm surprised by the number of reviews the last chapter received, and impressed by how many have said they will keep reading even though the pairing appears to have gone against their preference. Wish I could please everyone...

I'm not confirming for sure one way or the other if this is how it will finish. I'm afraid only time will tell on that score.

Anyhow, time to get on with things methinks.

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Repercussions – Chapter 19

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Blinking blurriness out of her eyes, the prone figure momentarily studied the ceiling above her, as if surprised to see it. The sleep she had longed for but seemed unwilling to arrive must have caught her unawares, as she was lying half-in and half-out of her futon in a manner normally associated with Mitsune after a mid-level alcoholic bender. Clearly what had at first seemed like an eternal night had, in fact, ended – the room being lit by the twilight glow only seen on overcast days when morning was just considering making an appearance.

Gradually, Motoko eased herself up into a sitting position, wincing as a stiff back made its presence felt. Rubbing some feeling back into her left cheek, the gown-clad girl yawned a quite impressive yawn, surprised she was actually having the chance to wake up. The way thoughts had chased one another around through her head in quite a dizzying manner after darkness had fallen…..Feeling the same sensations brewing, Motoko decided to get up and meet the day early - anything to avoid the same whirlpool she'd been drowning in the evening before. Getting to her feet with less grace than was normally anticipated of her, the slim woman took in her appearance in the mirror sat beside the suit of armour with a tiny grimace. Although she hadn't been up _all_ night, she certainly looked like she had. For a few moments the teachings of her clan echoed into her mind, and Motoko had to fight the instinct to mask the bags beneath her eyes, control the urge to appear flawless and correct.

That was behind her now. It wasn't necessary any more.

Plucking a white hairbrush from atop her dresser Motoko began to draw its teeth through her raven hair, gritting her teeth in annoyance as every stroke caught on a knot or tugged strands from her scalp. After what must have been the twentieth such episode she discarded the brush, frowning at the tangled mass of black trapped in its grasp.

Somehow, the young woman sensed that today was not going to be a day she would remember fondly.

Deciding that she was presentable enough for the present time, the tall figure decided that making her bed could wait and instead opted to see if breakfast was going to be taking place any time soon.

It was obvious by the peace through which the ex-swordsmistress walked, only punctuated by the occasional sound of soft snoring, that she was alone in being awake at the present hour. Padding softly down the staircase Motoko paused as she came into the lounge, taking in the sight before her.

A totally empty room.

Upon the sofa sat a carelessly heaped mass of blanket, obviously not containing the sleeping form of a certain Kanrinin. It seemed, contrary to her earlier assessment, that Motoko was not the only one up and about already.

Shrugging gently (and quietly disappointed the sofa was unoccupied) the young lady slipped into the kitchen, switching on the light as she did so. It was clear that the making of breakfast hadn't commenced; every surface a gleaming testament to Shinobu's housekeeping skills, utensils and plates obviously untouched. Making her way over to the fridge, Motoko unconsciously gave the dormant Wishy-Washy Two-Point-Three a wide berth - Su had fixed the overheating problem which blighted the Two-Point-Two, and the new machine had turned out to be quite reliable so long as it was given a constant stream of plates and cutlery to wash. If it wasn't, then it would instead attempt to clean the nearest possible object it could get any of its eight hands on. In the old Hinata-Sou it would have been a recipe for disaster – Motoko could have put money on some kind of 'pervert' incident within the first two days. Probably involving Keitaro, Shinobu and the removal of clothing from her person, followed shortly afterwards by a brief but explosive flash of violence.

Motoko was sincerely glad that the days when Kanrinin + underdressed tenant broken masonry seemed to be over.

Fishing some leftover rice and popping it into the microwave, the white-gowned figure reclined against the worktop while humming a vague tune until a loud 'ping' announced her temporary breakfast was ready. Withdrawing some chopsticks from a drawer and sprinkling a pinch of mixed spice atop the bowl, Motoko made her way back into the living room and took a seat on the battered old sofa, shivering slightly as the winter air chilled her even through her silken dressing gown. Eyeing the heap of blanket beside her, the girl momentarily hesitated before reasoning that it was safe to curl up beneath them – anyone approaching would be heard long before they could see her snuggling into Keitaro's sheets.

Drawing them across her lap, she shuddered again as the chill fabric made contact with the bare skin of her legs until her own body heat began to collect beneath it. Reclining back and enjoying the warmth the young lady took a bite of her food, allowing still drowsy eyes to sweep around the room. For a moment they focussed on the television before her and she idly considered turning it on, before deciding she wouldn't watch whatever was on it anyway.

It was on their second pass that her olive orbs alighted on the clock, ticking its familiar way through the seconds of the morning. It was earlier than she had anticipated, hardly past half-seven, which explained the half-light barely illuminating the house.

Suddenly, something wasn't right.

It took her several moments to pick up on exactly what, but the moment her pensive fingers brushed a cold fold of blanket it struck her.

It was early, very early. The man who should have been sleeping where she was sat had been awake continuously for thirty-six hours until the night before, so by all rights he should be comatose at this hour. Additionally his bedding was absolutely frigid; clearly it had gone un-used for hours. For a moment Motoko wondered if Keitaro had left the Hinata-sou for some reason, but the sight of his shoes in their customary place by the door suggested otherwise.

So he was in the Hinata-Sou, and given the presence of his sheets hadn't gone to his own room. Not that it was inhabitable yet anyway, several hours cleaning the night before merely enough to downgrade the room from 'biohazard' to simply 'filthy'.

So where was he?

Almost without realising it, Motoko found herself striding towards the hot springs. Pausing for the briefest moment at the threshold, the girl realised if Keitaro was in there he was going to be very undressed indeed. Blushing hotly, she found in her heart of hearts the prospect was more an incentive to enter than a deterrent. Shaking her head firmly and telling herself she was merely trying to put her mind at ease, she threw the door open and marched in while scanning the bathing area with keen eyes.

She was disappointed, in more ways than one.

After taking a moment to calm her pounding heart, the svelte figure left and trekked upstairs to investigate elsewhere. Ten minutes later she had concluded, to her growing anxiety, that the man she was searching for was not in his own private bath (barrel) or on the roof. She had even checked the laundry room and (much to her private embarrassment) the lavatories in an increasingly desperate attempt to disprove what she had feared. As the last door slid shut, Motoko couldn't help but recall what Tsuruko had said the day before.

_But what would you do if your feelings are not returned, or he only has eyes for another?_

Pausing mid-step, the young woman bit gently at her lower lip as the real reason for her anxiety came into focus. If the man wasn't somewhere public, then he must be somewhere private. Which meant a room, someone else's room…..and how could she be sure Tsuruko wasn't trying to give her a clue the day before? Her sister was perceptive as a hawk on the hunt; surely she couldn't have seen something……could she?

Could she?

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Keitaro was warm.

Warm and comfortable. Two things he'd not been since his self-imposed eviction from room 205. He was also still nine-tenths asleep, which explained why more complex thoughts were not buzzing through his head. Such as why he happened to be snugly curled up beneath soft blankets and atop a very pleasant mattress, rather than on lumpy sofa cushions with a terminally stiff neck. No, it was far too nice a dream to possibly be real, and so the Kanrinin was happy to just keep dreaming.

That was until something nearby coughed.

Suddenly more alert, Keitaro allowed one eyelid to creep open, taking in a blue bedspread at close range. To his still drowsy mind this suggested Mutsumi's room, but the same mind suggested further confirmation was required. Annoyed that he needed to move but giving in to curiosity, the man slowly turned over.

The pair of gleaming mahogany eyes he met at close range provided all the confirmation he needed.

"Ah!" With an undignified squeak of surprise Keitaro found himself at the opposite edge of the bed before his Okinawan host could blink.

"Good morning Kei." Mutsumi said with a beatific smile, apparently oblivious to her guest's discomfort.

"Uh, g-good morning Mutsumi." Staring at the pyjama-clad girl with wide eyes, Keitaro couldn't help but realise that Mutsumi lying full-length on the bed with bushy morning hair and a broad grin was a sight of the sorest of eyes. The blue-green silken outfit she was wearing only served to accentuate her very feminine figure, which swooped and curved in a way he was finding increasingly hard to ignore. Tearing his stare away from the buxom sight proved a struggle, one he knew Mutsumi had noticed given the slightly feline edge to her smile.

Swallowing the swelling in his throat (and desperately hoping it was the only swelling he would need to deal with), the man felt the urgent need to clarify exactly _why_ this vision of femininity was laying on the same bed as him.

"Ah, h-how did we…..?"

"Kei, don't you remember last night?" Her smile dimmed the tiniest amount, face creasing with concern as the man before her frowned slightly. It took only seconds for memory to furnish him with the details – the growing realisation, his nocturnal visitor……

…..The conversation which followed…..

Mutsumi almost glowed with delight as Keitaro drifted out of his reminiscence with a small smile. "Do you remember now?"

"Yeah." Hesitantly the Kanrinin reached out a hand to cover hers, the two sets of fingers interlacing tightly upon contact. "Sorry it took so long for me to actually realise what my feelings actually meant, but I've been so confused by everything recently….."

"Ara, it's okay. Better late than never, ne?" Dismissing the apology easily, Mutsumi allowed her head to settle on the pillow with a sigh of utter contentment. In truth what she really wanted to do was either dance through the halls of the Hinata-sou telling the world at the top of her voice or pounce on Keitaro and ravish the man until he passed out. Twice. Neither option was likely to be appreciated…..well, the latter might be, but the last thing Mutsumi wanted to do was rush things.

Actually……she did, but she was sure it would be counter-productive.

"Um, one thing Mutsumi." She drifted back down to earth as Keitaro gestured at the bed with a hesitant hand. "How did we end up in bed…..together?" As the last word was squeaked in a very mouse-like manner, Mutsumi was suddenly even gladder she hadn't given in to her more…..primal instincts. If the man was still anxious about lying on a mattress with a girl, heaven knows what he would do if the aforementioned girl jumped his bones unannounced.

"Well, after we came here we had a discussion about who should get the bed. Even though you'd been awake for two days you insisted I have it, until you sat down on the edge of it. Then you sort of…..passed out." The Okinawan's lips twitched with obvious good humour. "It was a sight to rival even one of my episodes. One second folded arms and defiance, the next poof! Instantly unconscious. Ended the argument quickly too. So I tucked you in, gave you a kiss goodnight and curled up in the chair over there." Keitaro followed the pointed arm aimed at the comfortable seat in the corner of the room, feeling his pulse begin to return to somewhere nearing normal.

"So…..we didn't….."

"Sleep together?" The young lady didn't know whether to be amused or infuriated at the whole-body 'jolt' her guest made at two simple words. "Ara, calm down Kei. No, we didn't, and we won't until you're good and ready." Schooling her features into her best 'puppy-dog' impression, Mutsumi gave the man before her the full focus of her glistening brown eyes. "Or don't you trust me?"

Keitaro had no chance.

"Of course I do!" He replied, voice unconsciously raised.

"Then stop fussing over nothing." Mutsumi stated firmly, gaze suddenly fiercer than Keitaro knew the girl was capable of. "Last night, you said you wanted to be with me. Now this morning you're trying to back away again, and it hurts Kei. Whose business is it if we slept in the same bed? Ours, and only ours."

"I-I know Mutsumi." The Kanrinin ran tense fingers through his disorganised scalp, obviously lost and confused. "It's like…..it's something built in to me, telling me that it's wrong to even be in the same room alone with anyone……" As his eyes seemed to scan the walls for escape routes, Mutsumi sighed gently. It seemed she had her work cut out for her.

"Kei. Look at me." The strong tone and a firm squeeze of his captured hand returned Keitaro's attention to his new girlfriend. Taking a long breath, Mutsumi began again in her normal soft contralto, feeling as if she was talking to a child freshly released from a nightmare. "I know you've been through the mill, and I know Naru is still fresh on your mind. But please, remember you can trust me. Everything that happens between us stays between us, and it's nothing to do with anyone else if we share the same room or the same bed. I can take lots of things, but one thing I can't is the thought of you being afraid of me, Kei. If you're afraid, how can I believe you could……love me?" For several moments the pair looked at one another amidst a pregnant silence.

"You're right….." Keitaro muttered quietly, allowing his head to hang down. "I do trust you Mutsumi, and I want to find out what we could have. I just get this little voice which tells me something bad is bound to happen……" Still paying most of his attention to the mattress, the Kanrinin was surprised to find a gentle hand tilt his head up, and a pair of warm, tender lips press against his own. Eyes widening, the man poised to bolt until they took in those belonging to Mutsumi, gazing with honest passion from millimetres away.

All thoughts of flight dissolved in an instant, and Keitaro found himself beginning to respond. Although the kiss never deepened, both bedfellows were blushing and breathing deeply as their mouths parted.

"Well. The way I see it, every time that voice speaks up all I need to do is distract you until it shuts up." Mutsumi almost growled, a seductive tone Keitaro had never heard before but sent shivers down his spine and set his hair on end. "Does that sound good to you, Kei?"

The answer was an audible gulp and frantic nodding, the man in question not trusting his voice at that moment in time.

"Good. Now, lay down right there, and I'm going to lie next to you. Then we're going to go back to sleep, as it's still early and I think we deserve it." The dark-haired girl stated, uncomfortable at forcing the point but determined to make it all the same. After watching her bedfellow comply she let her head rest down upon a plush pillow, wishing for the first time she could remember that her bed was smaller. "Now throw me some of that blanket, it is cold this morning….." It took a few seconds, but the heavy warmth of her quilt arrived with only a little hesitation. Glancing at Keitaro, Mutsumi was glad he'd been sensible enough to keep some for himself. She hadn't fancied telling him off for the second time in as many minutes.

Keitaro for his part was resolutely studying the ceiling, half learning to appreciate the situation and half praying nobody discovered it.

"Comfortable?" Turning his head, the Kanrinin took in a particularly wide smile and joyous mahogany eyes watching from a short but safe distance. As the hand still gripping his beneath the covers gave a tiny squeeze, he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as his apprehension began to die down. He was still lying on Mutsumi's bed, and nothing untoward had happened. No mallets, no screaming, no unintended 'perversions'. Just himself and the girl he'd grown to trust and…..love over time, lying together in comfortable silence, safe and sound. Gradually a genuine smile began to break upon his face, one he could see mirrored clear as day by Mutsumi's almost goofy grin. Although his answer was obvious, the man sensed she was awaiting the words to go with the expression.

"Yes, I'd say I'm comfortable." If Keitaro thought the Okinawan's smile couldn't possibly get any bigger, he found himself mistaken. The girl's grin swelled so much it nearly reached her ears.

"Good. Now, I'm tired after sleeping in a chair - " Mutsumi punctuated the statement with a long yawn. " – And you're tired after yesterday's sleepless night. So let's enjoy a few more hours, ne?" Silently agreeing with the statement, the dark-haired man allowed his eyes to slip closed, bathing in contented warmth until a quiet outburst from the girl lying alongside him opened them again.

"Ara! I almost forgot……" The re-opened eyes glazed slightly as Mutsumi leaned over and kissed him on the lips, mentally counting to five before releasing again. "Goodnight, Kei." She said, the words spoken with a relish expressing the years she'd spent wishing for the chance to say them.

"Goodnight, Mutsumi." Keitaro murmured in reply, given the captured hand a squeeze that was instantly reciprocated. Seconds later his soft snores filled the room, fingers still entwined with Mutsumi's beneath the blue bedclothes.

For several long moments the Okinawan stared at the sleeping form, smile now absent. She'd been delighted (if not a little surprised) by the speed and intensity of Keitaro's response the night before, and even if she'd put him under pressure by being so honest the girl couldn't help but feel the ends justified the means. The words had been burning a hole in her for too long, and there was no way she had been able to carry them in silence any longer. Besides, there was no way the man laying beside her would lie about such things – if he'd not felt a similar way, she wouldn't be looking at his sleeping face at this very moment.

No, it was something else that worried her.

"_I do trust you Mutsumi……"_

Laying her own head down and closing her eyes, the girl couldn't help but wonder if she was building a house of cards with half of the bottom tier missing……

--

--

Unsurprisingly, it had been a fractious day at the Hinata-sou. Thanks to the slackening snowfall, it had been possible for people to get out and about to some degree, which had allowed people to go about their business, whether it be making a few repairs (Keitaro), shopping for supplies (Shinobu), building a ridiculous snowman (Sara and Seta) or just escaping for a few hours (Naru and Motoko). Through all the comings and goings, Tsuruko had moored herself at the living room table, feet up and tea at the ready, talking to whoever happened by and watching events play out before her with mild interest. The only other relaxed figure was that of a well-endowed Okinawan, who had floated around the old apartments with her toes barely tracing the wooden floorboards. Tsuruko spent more than an hour chatting with Mutsumi, although she had only needed one look at the added intensity in the girl's traditional smile to know all she needed to. Mutsumi for her part was unconcerned, knowing the elder Aoyama well enough to realise that deception was both impossible and unnecessary.

However, one other person had taken notice of the young student's good mood. This was why she was stalking through the snowdrifts lining the outer walls of the Hinata-sou, in search of its Kanrinin. Who just happened to be two-thirds of the way up a ladder, hammering nails into a loose floorboard in Shinobu's balcony - which could be considered either brave or foolish given the weather. While the wind had downgraded from gale to breeze, it was still swift enough to whistle through the trees and whip her hair about when the mood took it.

Deciding not to waste her voice by shouting, Haruka placed two fingers in her mouth and unleashed a piercing whistle guaranteed to gain the attention of anyone two and a half stories up a ladder. The woman felt her heart jump into her mouth as Keitaro started, his hammer striking fingers in preference to the nail they held. Instinctively the man grabbed the throbbing digits with his other hand, conveniently forgetting he was not on terra firma. Toppling backwards, he managed to hook his good hand around one of the banisters before placing his hammered fingers in his mouth and looking down to see exactly who had made the noise. Obviously surprised at the visitor, the Kanrinin descended the ladder with minimal grace until he was stood face-to-face with his aunt.

"Haruka-obasan?" Fighting the urge to give her 'nephew' a resounding thwack with her harisen, Haruka settled for gritting her teeth.

"You get that one for free. Any more and there'll be……repercussions." For several seconds the pair looked at each other, until the older Urashima realised she hadn't actually explained why she'd called him in the first place. "Come on Keitaro-bozu. Time for a coffee, my treat."

"Uh, sure Haruka-san." Keitaro replied, recognising the code for what it was.

"Leave the ladder, it should still be here when we're done." Haruka didn't know if it would be upright or not, but to be honest she didn't give a toss. Patience was never a strong point for the tea shop owner, and waiting for Keitaro to fold it and put it away was not something she could be bothered doing.

"Okay." Descending the steps in silence, Keitaro couldn't help but wonder exactly _why_ his aunt had chosen to invoke their old promise now.

Reaching the tea house, Haruka removed her coat and kicked off her shoes, setting to work with practised ease. Shutting the door behind him, Keitaro took his usual seat while his aunt brewed up their usual order unasked, only pausing to light up the inevitable cigarette mind-way through the process. In what must have been seconds two mugs landed on the table, each one emitting a very alluring vapour which enticed the drinker into taking a sip without even realising it.

Grasping the handle instinctively, the bespectacled man gasped as pain jolted up his arm from his abused fingers.

"That looks sore." Haruka commented idly, dark eyes betraying her apparent lack of interest.

"Ah, it'll be fine. They're only bruised, I've had much worse." Keitaro replied, dismissing the injury and using his other hand to pick up the cup. The pair took their first sips of coffee in mutual silence, before the older woman got to the point with characteristic speed.

"Okay, Keitaro-kun. I'm not going to mess around." The slim woman leaned forward, interrogation-style. "You and Mutsumi. Yes?"

"……Yes." Came the answer, spoken with more certainty than Haruka had expected.

"I see." Leaning back slightly, the woman allowed her deep brown eyes to assess her 'nephew' carefully. He looked nervous, but at the same time resolute. "Hmmmmm. Since when?"

"Last night. Well, this morning really." As Keitaro looked levelly back at her, the elder Urashima weighed her next question up carefully. When it came, it was simple and to the point.

"Why?"

Keitaro nearly choked on his coffee.

"Why?!" Wiping a sleeve across his mouth, the man levelled a glare at his aunt. "What do you mean, 'why'?!" Reassured, Haruka eased back in her chair with a tiny smile.

"Nothing, Keitaro-kun. Just wanted to make sure this isn't some kind of rebound thing."

"I wouldn't do that." The indignation in Keitaro's voice spoke far louder than his actual words. "What kind of man do you take me for, Haruka-san?" The woman in question held up a placating hand, sensing she might have gone a little too far.

"Sorry. I should have known better than that." Receiving no reply, Haruka turned her attention to her drink and waited.

"……It's been a long time since we did this." And smiled as Keitaro broke the silence, as she knew he would.

"It has."

"Almost a month now."

"Mmmmmm." A long pause followed, both people waiting for the other to broach the reason why. Inevitably, the Kanrinin stepped across the line first.

"Not since we found out what Mitsune was up to." Looking up at his aunt, Keitaro frowned slightly. "And I still think you were too harsh on her, Haruka-san. It was my money she was stealing, so it should have been my decision what was done." In response the woman shrugged, taking her cigarette from between her lips and tapping the spent ash from the end into a handily placed (and particularly ugly) Molmolian relic.

"Afraid it was time someone took charge. You're too damn soft Kei-bozu, you'd have given her a glare and a slap on the wrists at most. For that kind of crime most people get a custodial sentence, or at least community service. Heh, you know, it's the only way the community would get any service out of her……"

"But throw her out?! It's the depths of winter! She'd have lasted a week if she was lucky." The annoyance Keitaro was feeling only intensified as Haruka smiled around her cigarette.

"That's why I did it at the dinner table." The slim lady shrugged idly, looking quite pleased. "There was no way you'd let me throw anyone out. If I wanted the silly girl gone for good, she'd be gone. But bring you into the picture in her defence……" A satisfied plume of smoke was exhaled into the air between the two Urashimas, Haruka letting the smouldering cigarette rest between two of her fingers. "…..then she gets the message, and a damn big fright to the bargain. I wasn't planning on you giving up your room, but if anything it put her even more into your debt. Soon as you made it clear you didn't appreciate what she's been doing, she was going to start thinking more and drinking less."

"And look how that turned out." Came the curt reply, the Kanrinin clearly not appreciating being an unwitting part of his Aunt's machinations.

"Careful….." Haruka growled, brown eyes narrowing.

"No, Haruka-san. Mitsune ends up in hospital and you're purring over how well everything turned out? That's…..that's just wrong. Damn wrong. I don't know what to make of you now, Haruka-san, but I do know I don't like it." Keitaro muttered in response, pushing his mug of coffee away in distaste.

Haruka could have managed any amount of anger in her nephew's voice, or even the foulest language he was capable of. But when Keitaro turned his disappointed mahogany gaze on her, the woman found herself scrabbling for some way to justify herself.

"Look Kei-bozu, I didn't plan on that. I wanted her to go 'oh woe is me', brood for a while and hopefully come out a few days later with an attitude adjustment. The whole fitting and vomiting blood business was way above and beyond the lesson I wanted to teach her." The expression on her nephew's face didn't change, which unsettled her. It was the expression of someone seeing you in a different light, one she imagined Naru recognising far too late.

"……." Haruka was normally the mistress of unsettling silence, so to find she was the focus of one was disturbing. Although she'd never said as such, what Keitaro thought of her had always been important to her – family was family, and he was the closest she had. Sighing deeply, the elder Urashima dumped her half-smoked tobacco stick unfinished into her ashtray and leaned back, allowing rarely-seen emotions to show on her face.

"I honestly didn't want the silly girl to go and land up in hospital. Do I really look that heartless?" Grimacing, the woman waved a hand in the air. "On second thoughts don't answer that. There might have been better ways to do this, but I can't think of any. If I'd brought you onside for what I was planning I know that you'd have let something slip, you're not enough of a bastard to cold-shoulder anyone for too long. She'd have been right back into her old ways soon as you can say 'sake'."

"There must have been better ways." Keitaro stated, still quietly furious.

"…..Sheez, you've got to make this hard on me, haven't you?" Throwing up her arms in frustration Haruka then allowed them to flop limply down on the table, knocking her ashtray onto the wooden floor. "Fine. I gambled, and it all blew up in my face. I'm sorry. It wasn't meant to get so fucked up, but there you go. That stupid girl has got to take the consequences of the life she's pissing away, and while I don't like how it happened that's life. Now we've got to deal."

"Whatever you say, Haruka-san." Her nephew answered, clearly unimpressed. "I'm going to head back and get ready, visiting time begins soon. Not that you'd want to know……" As he watched Haruka almost visibly deflated, reaching out a grasping hand to snag his arm mid-departure. Pausing, Keitaro watched his aunt take a long breath before looking up at him.

Seconds later he wordlessly re-took his seat.

"I can't forgive her yet, Keitaro-kun. I don't like the fact that she's a drunk and a layabout, but what I can't accept is that she…..used us. Used you. Took my patience and your good will, and wasted it all without a second thought. And we're family. You know what that means to me……" The slim woman huffed quietly, face planted firmly upon her cupped hands. "Heh, saying that when I've gone and used you myself. Don't know what that makes me, but nothing good, that's for certain……"

For several long moments, the Urashimas stared at one another. Then Keitaro spoke.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions." Standing slowly, the bespectacled man stretched his arms up to the ceiling, grimacing as his back emitted a series of worrying clicks. "But then again, if you _never_ have any you're guaranteed a seat in hell." Glancing back at his aunt, Keitaro gave the woman a half-smile.

"……Coffee same time tomorrow?" Haruka asked, unable to sound completely casual.

"Yeah. Sounds good to me." Fixing his coat securely, the brown-haired man allowed a broader smile to escape. "I'll be here for the usual."

"Okay Kei-kun." Watching the figure leave, Haruka felt the kind of relief that deserved a cigarette. She'd ignited a fresh tobacco roll and placed it in her mouth before she even realised her ash receptacle was currently under a table half-way across the room, with its contents liberally strewn across the normally gleaming floor. Grumbling under her breath the shop owner gathered a dustpan and brush to sweep up the mess before replacing the odd relic to its rightful place before her favourite seat.

Then she inhaled, paused, and exhaled languorously.

"Damn, Kei. When did you grow up?" She muttered reflectively, allowing hazel eyes to glaze over. Two things she now knew for certain – one; although he never really raged at anyone, she really didn't want to end up on her nephew's bad side again. Two; if he could smile like that, it wasn't surprising he had trouble with the girls at the Hinata-sou.

The woman chuckled idly, either unaware or uncaring that her half-spent cigarette was beginning to crumble into her lap. _Good thing I'm your relative and already spoken for, Kei. Else I'd have been tempted to make your life even more complicated……_

--

--

Sara was quite pleased with herself.

After her initial forays into Kaolla Su's room were met with at best silence and at worst gunfire, the young blonde had taken the dismissals as a challenge. Since then, the tenacious girl had tried every route she knew of into Su's room, from passageways and trap-doors to breaking through the ceiling. Yet every route the girl had taken was blocked, either by securely locked doors borrowed from bank vaults or another one of the Molmolian's bonkers creations, usually toting a weapon so ridiculous even the most hardened science-fiction buff would be hard pressed not to scoff.

Sara had done so herself, the first time. When she'd finished running for her life, the young American had chosen to suspend disbelief from that moment onwards.

Since then she'd tried every passage the Hinata-sou had, a few of which she was sure no other living being knew of.

Wrong.

The last mecha she came across was packing a _lightsaber _for goodness sake. The girl was unsure if it worked or not, but after everything else discretion was definitely the better part of valour.

But if there was one thing that Sara loved, it was a challenge. Since dor….uh…..Keitaro baiting was removed from the menu, the youthful blond had been after a new goal. Kaolla Su was presenting just that, and hence Sara was now determined to break into her room at all costs. Concern for her absent friend and curiosity over the reason for her absence might also have had something to do with it, but that was an admission Miss MacDougal would only make on pain of death.

This time, the girl was convinced she had the perfect plan. And that was not all…….

"Tell me again Sara-chan, why am I doing this?" …..If it were something that warranted concern, she had an assistant to deal with all that troublesome emotional business.

"Because, Shinobu-chan, it's the best way to find out what Su is doing. You said you were worried, right?"

"Well, yes." The teenager swept a stray strand of violet hair out of her eyes, shifting to find a more comfortable position. "But smuggling ourselves in a wooden box? And not only a wooden box, but one full of bananas?" She added, staring around. The crate was absolutely choc-full of the yellow fruits, to the point where only her chin and face were visible. Sara had to keep herself from snorting as the girl reached up and pulled a bunch off her head, before sniffing the cuff of her purple jumper with a grimace. "I'll never get the smell out of this sweater. It's one of my favourites too; Kei gave it to me for my last birthday."

"Ah c'mon, it's the perfect plan. Su has a special delivery hatch for her supply of bananas, she'll never expect it." In response, Shinobu frowned.

"So why do we have to sit in a hundred kilograms of them?"

"You honestly think she hasn't set up some kind of scanner to make sure she's getting bananas in her banana delivery?" Sara asked sardonically.

"……..Fair point." Trying to keep the torch illuminating them from sinking in the sea of yellow, Shinobu sighed gently. "So, how on earth did you set this up? First getting us into a big crate of bananas, and then delivered direct to Su's room?"

"I have connections." The young blonde smiled craftily.

"Ah."

"And Keitaro's wallet."

"Thought so." Shifting again, Shinobu huffed in frustration. "We'd better get somewhere soon; I don't know how much longer I can stay in this box."

"It's your own fault. I told you to go before we got in." Sara replied snidely, drawing colour from her companion's face.

"Hey, I didn't think it'd take so long….." The sudden onset of movement halted the conversation, and the pair focussed their efforts on keeping their heads above the banana line. After some quite vigorous jostling accompanied by odd mechanical whirring noises, the pair felt themselves come to a stop again somewhere quiet. After a few seconds silence, Shinobu spoke up.

"Do you think we're-" And nearly cracked her skull on the roof of the box as a loud siren gave a single plaintive wail.

For several long moments the pair waited in fear, expecting something seriously bad to happen. Eventually, the thought that death might not actually be imminent began to filter through, leading to matching sighs of relief.

"Alright, I think this is it." Sara cheered, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. Shinobu groaned in reply, more grateful at being alive than successful.

"Fantastic. Now, how do we get out?" Sara suddenly stopped looking pleased with herself.

"Um……"

"……….You have GOT to be kidding me." Seeing Sara's contrite look Shinobu slumped down, trying her level best not to throttle the preteen. "After all this I'm going to die in a box of bananas with no-one but the poster child for delinquency for company." Ignoring the affronted 'Hey!' her companion emitted, the home-maker idly stroked the long sleeve of her sweater in tender reminiscence. "At least I'm wearing my favourite clothes, and have my memories to ease the passing……"

CRACK

Instinctively ducking at the loud noise, the pair shielded their eyes as their private universe suddenly became a lot lighter, thanks to the use of a crowbar. Blinking spots out of her vision, Shinobu could honestly say she'd never been so glad to see Kaolla Su in her entire life. The tan figure in question peered at the contents of the crate with odd disinterest, before plucking a sheaf of bananas from atop Sara's head.

"Hiya guys." She muttered, waving a half-hearted hand before turning around and moving out of sight. The two still in the box glanced at one another before extracting themselves from the crate with due haste. Following Su through her foliage-laden abode, Sara was astonished when the girl turned into a clearing in her indoor jungle.

If it could be called a clearing any more, given it was anything but clear. The floor was littered with mechanical parts and half-finished projects, scattered in a manner that suggested they were discarded rather than filed. Here and there patches of oil and tools were strewn amongst the rubble, while banana skins sat in little puddles on every available surface. Along the far wall was a bank of screens displaying every corner of the room from every angle, one of which contained Shinobu half-hidden behind a bush muttering something along the lines of 'never, ever again'. Turning away Sara's blue eyes took in a single hammock strung between two trees, and the figure of Kaolla Su laying listlessly within it, apparently making adjustments to a blueprint.

In all the time she'd known Kaolla, Sara had never known her friend to be anything but meticulous when it came to her machines. Nothing wasted, nothing trashed, every possible component re-cycled or re-developed into something which worked. Never before this elephant's graveyard of mechanical death.

"…..Blasted yellow phallic fruit from hell, won't eat another one so long as I live……" Shinobu's muttering ended as she rounded the corner and her own eyes took in the chaos. "What on earth?"

"I dunno." Shrugging, Sara re-applied her attention to Su, who was staring with blank eyes at the sheet before her while chewing a red mechanical pencil with more than a little force. The sound of plastic splintering suggested it was a little too much. "Hey, Su-chan! How you doin'?"

"Fine." The princess murmured absently, taking the mangled pencil from her mouth and scribbling an amendment to her current design.

Silence.

"Su-chan, I'm making banana split for dessert tonight. Would you like to join us?" Shinobu tried, hoping the mention of food would do the trick.

"Maybe." Dropping the pencil to her lap Su absently unpeeled one of her collection and scoffed it in three bites, before discarding the skin over the side of her hammock and going back to her drawing.

"Are you okay? I haven't seen you for days." The young home-maker persisted, concern growing by the second.

"I'm fine." Frowning at the state of her current design, the girl flipped over a page on her notepad and set to doing some very complex equations. They obviously did not add up, given the way she tore the page off and crumpled it carelessly before tossing it at a bin sat below the array of monitors. It was a good shot, but the mountain of equally rubbished papers already occupying it meant it bounced away and joined many of its brethren upon the floor.

"Hey Su-chan, I'm gonna go passage hunting! Wanna come?"

"Nah. Have fun." The Molmolian grunted in reply to Sara's offer, clicking another length of lead from the end of her writing tool and starting to write notes of some description. For minutes, the only noise was the scratching of graphite upon paper, until the girl's voice emerged from the depths of her hammock once again. "I'm gonna be a while, so don't wait up……"

Sara and Shinobu gaped openly at one another, before obeying what was clearly a dismissal. As they stepped into the vacant corridor, sliding the door closed behind them, Sara eloquently summed the situation up in one line.

"What the hell was all that about?!"

--

--

Inside the room there was a brief pause in the sound of writing, followed by a stream of darkly muttered Molmolian invective. Then, the sound of paper being scrunched into a ball, succeeded moments later by more furious scratching of pencil on paper.

--

--

Shifting uneasily, Naru stared at the yellow blanket sat on the bed before her, wondering why the hospital couldn't have chosen a better colour. Of all the shades they could have chosen, the odd one which hovered somewhere between canary and lemon had to be the worst possible. And to put it onto every single bed…..

The girl sighed, realising she was only pondering such an aimless topic to avoid the real reason she was where she was. Although, she mused after glancing at her friend, it looked like Mitsune was finding the décor just as fascinating.

The only word exchanged had been a pair of 'hellos' which were some time ago. Since then……not very much. The girl had summoned dozens of opening lines, but each one she had considered and ignored. Every singe one seemed to lead to a predictable few sentences of prose, a conversation she could recite word-for-word before it had even begun. Things like 'how are you', 'awful weather' or 'how's the food' didn't quite cut it any more.

She'd known Mitsune for what must seemed like forever. In all that time, she'd never had any difficulty talking with her friend. They had become close as sisters, and in truth Naru had considered her one, something she was sure was reciprocated. To be sat in this vacuum, with what seemed to be an impenetrable wall between them, was about as unpleasant as anything the honey-eyed girl had known. After what seemed like days of stupefying silence Naru grew tired with the impasse, and decided to do the brave thing for once and take the bull by its metaphorical horns. If nothing else it would be unexpected.

"Mitsune-chan, how did it end up like this?" The girl sat in the bed, who had been cautious and watchful ever since she'd arrived, instantly closed up even further.

"Like what?" At the blank statement, Naru couldn't help but stare in disbelief.

"Like what?!" Her tone incredulous, the girl waved her plaster-clad hand at the room in general. "I mean you stuck in a hospital bed, me at my wit's end, and the pair of us sat here like perfect strangers! What's happened to us? We've been the best of friends for near enough a decade, and now we can't even look at each other – how on earth did we get here……?" Trailing off before the words got stuck, Naru twirled a strand of honey hair between anxious fingers.

The most Mitsune gave her was a glance, before returning her attention elsewhere.

"Y'know darn well how I got here, Naru-chan. And I'd be waging on you getting here either by train or van, probably van." She answered with dull indifference, while her posture was screaming 'LEAVE ME ALONE' at the top of its voice.

In truth, misdirection wasn't the best choice when talking to her friend. Naru could only rest against the cold shoulder for so long before the chill froze her will to fight. Making excuses on the other hand merely added fuel to whatever fire happened to be burning.

"Don't give me that, Mitsune-chan. Yes, things have changed since the New Year. But I still don't see why things went so bad so fast."

Mitsune tried her best to say nothing, she really did. But in the face of such obliviousness...

"Dammit Naru!" A tiny flicker of the girl's old flame appeared as she rounded on her friend, nearly dislodging an IV line in the process. "Are you thick?! Don't you even _remember_ the last month?"

"Of course I do! How could I forget?" Naru replied, releasing the honey strands she'd been playing with.

"Then why are you bein' so stupid?" Seeing anger springing up in the other girl's face, Mitsune felt the strong urge to slap it off. As it was she settled for raising her voice to shout her visitor down. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that it weren't just you an' Keitaro that were bein' affected by all that shit?"

Naru's denial reflex was terminated long before it had the chance to form words. The girl dipped her head as memories flickered through her mind – Shinobu's furious tears, Haruka nearly biting her cigarette in half, the snarled words spoken by the fox herself – and she struggled to keep her emotions reined in. Seeing the weakness Mitsune couldn't help but press her point home, words she'd waited to say for a long time. In the back of her mind she knew it was only her own anger finding a convenient outlet, but it was such a cathartic sensation that she was past caring.

"Nah, Naru-chan's the centre of her own li'l world. I warned ya, sister, that nothin' good would come of what ya were doin'. Y'see, I was jealous. Ya had everythin' I would die for in yer hand – a good man who loved ya and a future to share – and ya threw it away. When I saw how broke it left him……" Taking a hissing breath between clenched teeth, the grey fox tried and failed to stop the crescendo building. "……You ducked and ran, he folded up, and it left me all on my lonesome. I had bills comin' outta my ears, things are crashin' down around me an' my best friend hightailed it to the hills. I was lost, dammit!" She wailed, bitterness spilling beyond her control.

A loud 'SHUSH!' rang through the room, and the two girls looked up to see themselves the focus of attention. Every visitor was staring at them with expressions varying between interest and shock, while the rather large nurse placed her hands on hips and gave them a look which indicated that visiting hours ended _right now_ if any further shouting was heard. A mumbled 'sorry' later the two girls dipped their heads, faces now red for multiple reasons. Once sure she was no longer being watched, Naru spoke in a whisper which barely trickled into Mitsune's ears.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't know. I've been an awful friend." Sniffling slightly, the girl closed her eyes in resignation. "But you won't have to worry about me screwing things up for much longer."

"Look, I'm not blaming you for everything, but…..what?" Mitsune almost tripped over her own words as Naru's statement filtered through.

"I'm thinking about moving out, find somewhere I can live to keep studying at Tokyo-U while getting out of everyone's hair." The girl sighed, each word laced with painful regret. "Life will be easier that way, for me and everyone else. I'm looking for a place; my parents are going to help so it shouldn't take long."

"Naru-chan……" Looking at her friend with eyes wide, Mitsune could feel horror welling in her stomach. She'd been frustrated and lost, and needed someone to take it out on. And yes, Naru deserved at least a little of the rage she'd received. But then this……

"It's for the best." The ringing of a bell announced the end of visiting hours, and Naru heralded it's call by quickly rising to her feet. "I'd better be going. See you Mitsune-san." Without another word she left, head bowed to avoid the curious looks she still received from the other visitors, while Mitsune watched helplessly. As the girl vanished from view the bed-bound fox sagged back onto her pillows, before drawing the foul yellow blanket over her head and sincerely praying for the world to end before life could get any worse.

--

--

That's all for now.

Hope to be a bit quicker with the next chapter!

Ja ne.

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	20. Chapter 20

Shinobu glanced around herself, as if to verify the truth she already knew

Time for chapter 20 at last.

Thanks to all my reviewers, I continue to appreciate your input and opinions.

It's been quite long enough, so I won't ramble on.

--

--

Repercussions – Chapter 20

--

--

Shinobu glanced around herself, as if to affirm the truth she already knew.

Yes, she was still alone. As she had been the last time she'd checked ten seconds before. The door was still locked, and the young home-maker knew that every single pathway and entry point into the laundry room was secure. It was as much her room as the one which bore her name upon the door, and hence she was familiar with all the hidden passageways leading into it.

When Shinobu was doing the laundry, she made very sure she couldn't be disturbed - it was doubtful that even Su could break into her stronghold at these times. While the violet-haired girl doubted anyone would really want to bother her that much, she was unwilling to take any chances as being caught in the act would be not only die-of-shame embarrassing, but also cast shadow on her innocent reputation. Although she wasn't actually doing anything _wrong_ per se, she could still imagine raised eyebrows if someone such as Motoko came across her while she was enjoying a slightly guilty pleasure.

One last scan of the room.

Still empty.

Good.

With a broad smile on her face Shinobu rifled through the piles of linen awaiting their turn in the washing machine, until she came across an off-white set. Putting them carefully to one side she piled her own blankets into the machine and, with remarkable haste, set it to work. Glancing once more around as if in confirmation, the bright-eyed teen quickly made a pile out of the remaining unwashed linens before grasping those she'd set aside. Unfolding them, the girl smiled broadly before cocooning herself in the soft fabrics and flopping blissfully down onto her impromptu bed, burrowing into the soft warmth.

Then she breathed deeply, enjoying the familiarity of her favourite scent.

Keitaro had no idea he was the reason she'd insisted on cleaning the bedclothes at least twice a week, and _definitely_ wasn't aware of what she did while ensconced in her private universe. Shinobu was more than happy for this to remain the case.

Closing her violet eyes slowly, she allowed her imagination to run free. Dreaming of a future where she wasn't wrapped up in these sheets alone, when she could breathe in the scent of a living breathing person, not merely the shadow he left upon his bedclothes.

'_But you're so young…..' _

The same bitterness which always came to pass during these moments arrived right on cue, and the girl buried her face into the scented cloth, allowing it to absorb her tears. Shinobu was a dreamer, but she was no fool. And she knew there was next to no chance that Keitaro would see her as a woman in time for her to have a chance. Three years was far too long, if the man wasn't taken by one of her peers by then he was either dead or gay. And Shinobu had seen enough evidence to be sure the latter wasn't true.

But she was still allowed to dream, so dream she did. Captured in the grip of unfulfilled desire, enjoying every bittersweet moment she spent wound tightly in an indirect embrace.

Eventually she became aware that the washing machine had fallen silent, and reluctantly disentangled herself from her cocoon. People had started to notice the laundry was taking longer and longer to complete, especially after she'd fallen asleep for three hours the previous week. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to her….activities. It was only as she drew the slightly damp fabric away from her face that she noticed something wasn't quite right. There was another facet to the scent, one she hadn't noticed – it was faint but there all the same. Drawing the bundle to her nose she took a deep inhalation, mind whirling. It took some time to place it, but the girl was so familiar with the washing of each of her housemates that it was only a matter of exclusion.

Motoko. Motoko's scent.

Eyes narrowing slightly, Shinobu gripped the cloth more tightly. How did Motoko end up using Keitaro's bedclothes? Suspicious, the young home-maker shuffled through the pile until she came across the linen belonging to the ex-swordsmistress and gathered them up. Breathing in slowly (and feeling a little embarrassed as she did so) the girl could only smell the rich floral tones that were unique to the younger Aoyama, something that secretly reassured her. Dropping them carelessly to the floor, Shinobu set to emptying and re-filling the washing machine while internally laughing at her antics.

_Talk about paranoid._ She chuckled, placing her now clean sheets over a clothes horse to dry, and scooping up another armful to load into the machine. _I'm starting to see things everywhere…._

The internal laughter stopped abruptly and she almost dropped the fabric in her grasp as a very familiar scent crept into her nose. Holding the sheets out at arms length, Shinobu recognised them instantly.

Not really wanting to find out but feeling duty bound to, the girl took a tentative sniff and found her suspicions confirmed.

Mutsumi's bed sheets. And they had both her and Keitaro's scents all over them.

There was no mistaking it. Keitaro's smell was far different from anyone else's, more deep and masculine, and it was one Shinobu could detect from twenty miles away with a following wind. Having a trace of Motoko on Keitaro's linen, well, they were stashed on the sofa most of the time and anyone could use them. It wasn't unreasonable to imagine someone borrowing them to keep warm. But Mutsumi's bedding was only ever in one place. On her bed.

Which meant so was Keitaro, and given the relative intensity, he had been there for some time.

The tiny candle of hope which still burned in Shinobu flickered dangerously.

Seconds later, the door was open and the laundry room empty, a pile of blue linen lying discarded in the middle of the floor.

--

--

Mitsune stared dully at the ceiling above her for what seemed to be the millionth time, wishing dearly that she had something new to look at. Sighing irritably, the girl winced as her raw throat announced its own displeasure at the situation. It obviously didn't appreciate having a camera shoved down it, even if it was 'for her own good'. As it was, whatever had caused her to vomit blood all over Keitaro's lap didn't seem to be a major problem any more.

This didn't make Mitsune feel that much better. Her throat still hurt, and her life still seemed utterly aimless.

Coughing once, the fox almost growled in annoyance as the burning intensified in response.

Doctors? Sadists, each and every one of them.

Resisting the urge to express her annoyance, the girl settled for staring abjectly at nothing in particular. She'd didn't know how long she'd been tied to monitors and drips, but was more than sure it was long enough. Even talk of downgrading her and moving her to a regular ward with the potential for getting out and about had done nothing to alleviate her foul mood – all but the cheeriest of nurses had given up trying to lift her from her black fog, and while certain visitors could they did have their own lives to lead.

So Mitsune drifted aimlessly, wondering if there was anything worth recovering for.

"Sulking again?" The voice which awoke her from her daydreams sent a tremor down her spine. Allowing a grey eye to cease its ceiling inspection, Mitsune glanced at Haruka with ambivalence. And decided not to even grace the question with a response.

"Guess you are. Y'know, you could try something else for a change." The woman continued in a conversational tone, one usually accompanied by the tapping of cigarette ash into a tray. But this was a high-dependency ward, so the nicotine addict had to go without.

"……." After recovering from the surprise, Mitsune found herself oddly undisturbed at the older woman's presence. When you just don't care any more, the fox mused, there's not very much that can scare you.

"Because if you don't, we're gonna have words. Again. And this time, I'm prepared to go past words, through gestures and all the way up to physical shaking if that's what it takes to get the message across." Haruka finished, her eyes narrowing hawk-like at the prone figure.

"……Not interested." Was the dismissive reply, Mitsune half-rolling away from her in emphasis.

When the fox subsequently found herself half-rolled back by a pair of firm hands, she felt her eyebrows moving towards her hairline at the unexpected (and unwanted) contact. Feeling stirrings of anger she repeated the same movement, once again turning her back on her visitor.

The anger wasn't quite so well contained when Haruka (fairly forcefully) returned to her original position a second time.

"Ah, sod off Haruka-san. If ya wanna tell me off, ya can do it ta my back." The fox growled, ignoring the complaints from her throat. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement when Haruka instinctively reached for her usual pacifier before realising she couldn't use it. Instead she settled for crossing her legs and linking her hands across her knee, obviously trying to stop fidgeting fingers.

"I'm not here for that." Ignoring the sardonic look she received, Haruka shrugged her long coat off her shoulders, settling it across the back of her chair and making sure she was comfortable. "I'm here to try and talk some sense into you."

Mitsune bit back a snarl at the unconcealed slight.

"If all yer gonna do is hurl insults at me, there's no point hangin' around. Just get 'em off yer chest an' leave." Closing her slitted eyes, the morose figure settled back into her bed with barely a sigh.

And almost yelped out loud as the older woman seized her hand in a grip which could put a shark's jaws to shame.

"I don't think you're listening Mitsune-chan." Leaning forwards, Haruka gave the captured hand an extra tweak, careful to ensure it looked innocent to anyone nearby. "I've come to talk some sense into you, because if I don't no-one else will." For long seconds the pair stared at one another, the irony of the situation not lost on Mitsune.

"Look, jus' leave me be. If you wanna throw me out or whatever, I don't care." If anything, the look on her visitor's face darkened further.

"You really can't see past yourself, can you? This isn't about me, or you for that matter. You still owe Keitaro big-time, and I intend to see you earn every single yen back, that hasn't changed. I'm here for everyone else, everyone who's spent the last few days chewing their nails off while they pray for you to get better." Mitsune snorted gently, apparently unimpressed.

"Yeah, right…."

"Don't you dare, Mitsune-san. Don't you dare take that tone." Haruka growled in annoyance, giving the girl's hand another squeeze in warning, one that drew the fox's full attention. Regarding the café-owner Mitsune found the faintest tingle of fear sparkle in her nerves, unpleasant but somehow welcome at the same time.

"You'd better stop this whole 'it doesn't matter' pity parade right now, it doesn't give your friends the respect they deserve." The older woman continued, her tone hard and unflinching. "Keitaro, Shinobu and everyone else have been worried sick. I reckon I've not seen that nephew of mine this worked up since the whole Naru business went down." At the mention of her one-time best friend, Mitsune grimaced visibly. Pinned by a questioning look, she sighed and dropped her eyes to the bedspread, voice dropping to a dull murmur.

"She's one who wouldn't mind me outta the way, I reckon." Beneath Haruka's ever more curious gaze, the girl found an explanation pouring forth despite herself. "She's plannin' ta move out, seems me an' her ain't gonna get along like we used ta." For several long moments the Urashima seemed to regard her with something nearing amusement, a reaction which really elevated Mitsune's heckles. "Yeah, way ta laugh at a girl when she's down, Haruka-san."

"You really, honestly think she's moving out just because of you?" The slim woman half-chuckled, shaking her head idly. "You really are self-centred aren't you? Look, Naru's been found out. Shinobu will hardly speak to her, Mutsumi has blanked her, she's surrounded by memories and the man she really desires she can't have. And he's still living under the same roof as her, so she sees him every single day."

"……" Suddenly feeling incredibly foolish (and not a little guilty) Mitsune found her fingers intensely interesting.

"Look. Whatever's going in between you and her is for you and her to sort out. I imagine she needs you a lot more than you need her right now. But as for everyone else..." Huffing slightly, Haruka continued with grudging annoyance"Well, there's an earth in the Hinata-sou that's missing its fox. Your friends are waiting for you, and you'd better not forget it."

The silence following the statement seemed to stretch on for hours, eventually punctuated by a tiny nod from the grey-haired woman. Seemingly satisfied, Haruka released Mitsune's captive hand and stood, unconcerned by the fact the imprints of her fingers could still be seen outlined on the pale skin.

"I'll leave you to mull it over. Oh, and just so you're sure….." Leaning over the prone fox and dropping her voice to barely a purr, the slim figure felt a stirring of satisfaction as the target of her ire cringed in a very nervous manner. "You're a long way from forgiven, but I'm willing to give you the chance. All the same, I expect to see every single Yen paid back, even if I have to work you into the ground. Every. Single. Yen." With that Haruka span on her heel and strode from the ward, nodding in acknowledgement to the nurses as she left.

Mitsune released a breath she didn't know she was holding, willing her heart to return to somewhere near her normal eighty beats per minute.

It seemed Haruka did still possess the ability to scare the hell out of her. Even so, it had given her plenty to think about, a silver lining to look at.

Unfortunately, every silver lining had a cloud attached.

Resting back, head cradled upon the hands joined behind it, Mitsune let out a long sigh and closed her grey eyes. Although she had plenty to think about, it wasn't as if she had anything else to do at this moment in time.

--

--

The kitchen was warm, its occupants bathed in the light from a bulb clothed by a tan lampshade hanging from the ceiling. Leaning easily against one of the wooden worktops where Shinobu frequently worked her magic, Keitaro watched the kettle as it came to the boil, the sound of water bubbling energetically precluding a clicking sound as the power shut itself off. Lifting it from its resting place, the man tipped its contents into the waiting teapot and closed the lid with a small 'clunk'.

"Ara, is it just me or do we seem to spend most of our time drinking tea?" Smiling gently at Mutsumi, Keitaro shrugged as he fished three cups from one of the cupboards.

"Well, it's pretty much standard with every meal, and if you fancy a proper chat with someone having a drink to do it over is usually a good idea. Particularly when you have a guest." Nodding at the gravid figure opposite him, the man received a light chuckle in response.

"While I do appreciate ceremony, I feel your caffeine intake requires monitoring. Perhaps it was a factor in your habitual clumsiness, and also the slightly frantic manner of the exchanges that always followed….." Tsuruko noted with amusement, drawing a mock-glare from the Kanrinin.

"I wouldn't say it's that bad."

"Ara, ara. We're not saying you're addicted Kei, but you single-handedly keep rural China in business." Mutsumi chipped in, her grin taking any bite out of her words.

"Hey! It's Haruka's fault, okay? She'd only talk to me if we made tea first. I guess it turned into a habit." Keitaro defended, looking sheepish. Something that vanished the moment the brown-haired girl sidled closer and took his hand apologetically. "Besides, it's not like anyone ever refuses a cup is it?" The man finished, using his free hand to open the teapot lid and inspect its contents.

"You do have a point. Anyhow, on other matters….." Gesturing to the linked hands and the closeness of the pair, Tsuruko continued languidly. "I take it circumstances have changed, yes?"

"Yeah, you could say that. Partially thanks to you to be honest." At her boyfriend's words Mutsumi's gaze turned curious, seeking the explanation he quickly provided. "You see, a few days ago Tsuruko managed to do the impossible, which was extract my head from where it had been stuck. She reminded me that it wasn't just my time I was wasting by not making my mind up." Sighing gently Keitaro leant back against the worktop and examined the ceiling, fingers still not releasing their hold. "I kinda had a few ideas what I wanted, that I'd been getting closer to you for a few weeks. But between what happened in the springs and that night, on top of what Tsuruko said to me……I'm sorry if it was sudden, but I didn't want to let the chance pass me by." For a long second the brown-eyed pair stared at one another, before the shorter figure allowed her trademark smile to shine through.

"However it came about, I'm glad it happened. I've wanted you for the longest time, Kei." Throwing her free arm around Keitaro Mutsumi drew him into a chaste kiss, one the Kanrinin responded to.

"I see." Tsuruko stated shortly, not showing any overt reaction. "I also assume this is not a development which has become common knowledge?"

"No."

"So why so carefree before myself? I am the sister of one of your residents." The swordsmistress continued, apparently curious.

"Well, it's not as if we could hide anything from you." Keitaro replied, shrugging idly as he poured the tea out and handed the cups out. "Also, you're not really involved, which makes it easier. We'd rather tell the others when the time is right."

"How long would that have taken, Keitaro?" The question, voiced in a cool soprano, drew everyone's attention to the doorway. Where Shinobu stood, looking at the linked hands between her two favourite housemates with an almost accusing stare.

"Ara, Shinobu. Um…." Mutsumi was cut off by a waved finger, the violet-haired girl having none of it.

"Don't bother denying it. Keitaro spent last night with you, his smell was all over your sheets." Uncaring that her private hobbies were exposed Shinobu took a firm pace into the room and fixed Keitaro with a glare. "I'll ask again. How long?"

"I-I don't know." The man admitted quietly, dropping his head. "I was worried how people would react."

"Worried how…..?" About to set off on a tirade, the young home-maker was made to pause as a firm hand landed on her shoulder, and a quiet voice crept into her ear.

"You are currently demonstrating, quite ably may I add, exactly _why_ he was reluctant to tell anyone." Abruptly, Shinobu found the wind taken from her sails. Tsuruko had hit the nail head on, and what right did she have to make a big song and dance about anything? It wasn't as if she was being betrayed…..although deep down, that was exactly how it felt.

"Sorry, Shinobu. We only became a couple last night. You're the first resident to know." Mutsumi put in, sympathy clear in her tone.

"I see." Still dazed and confused, the girl accepted a proffered cup and took a sip without even realising she was doing so. Focussing on the pair before her, she could see the obvious affection in Mutsumi's gaze and nothing but honesty coming from her Kanrinin. "How?"

"Well…..I've had to think long and hard about things. I've been getting close to her for some time, but the last few days opened my eyes." Seeing the face of his youngest tenant falling, Keitaro searched for words of solace but found none.

"Shinobu, please don't hate me. I've waited my whole life for this, and I just had to try. I've already been too late once; I couldn't let a chance pass me again." Looking at Mutsumi, Shinobu tried and failed to find any anger towards the sweet-tempered Okinawan. In the end she settled on a saddened sigh, and a nod.

"Yeah. I can't say you didn't give me my chance." Drinking the last of her tea, the girl straightened up, determined to take the news with her head held high. "But don't wait too long to tell the others. They deserve to know, especially Naru and……Motoko……"

"I must concur with Shinobu-chan on this matter." Tsuruko agreed, olive gaze calm but firm. "Far be it for me to make such a decision for you, Keitaro-san. But a decision was needed in order to allow people to lead their lives with their eyes open." Breaking out into a half-smile, the pregnant woman drained her own cup and set it to one side. "I will not deny I hoped my sister may have found her life partner in you, but I can see you care deeply for one another, and hence I wish you only the very best."

"Thank you Shinobu, Tsuruko-san." Keitaro answered, sliding an arm around Mutsumi and tightening his grip slightly. One of the things the man valued highly was Shinobu's friendship, and that he would still have it was a great relief. "We'll let everyone know at dinner."

"Very well." Easing with a grace unbecoming someone with the dimensions of a small house, Tsuruko paused at the threshold. "I will see you at dinner. Until then." The three watched as she slipped from the room, before Shinobu took a quick breath.

"Actually..." Taking in the position her two close friends were in, the girl swallowed past the lump in her throat before continuing. "There is something I'd like to talk to you about, Kei. It's about Su……"

--

--

On the roof it was cold, the first few specks of snow drifting down and precluding what was to come, in the same way that sixteen bars of piano music may proceed an epic rock ballad. Amongst the heralding flakes Motoko sat in her usual meditative position, seemingly ignorant of the fact she was the centrepiece of a snow-globe that was about to be vigorously shaken. To anyone watching it would appear that, in fact, all was well if her normally tranquil expression wasn't marred by the faintest hint of a frown. The girl had to admit the disquiet she had awoken with had not eased, if anything it had grown substantially. While she had not gone so far as to investigate where Keitaro had been that very morning, she instinctively knew the choices were sparse. In fact, they totalled two, Naru, Sara and Su not being likely suspects.

Well, Su maybe, but no-one had seen her for days. Motoko didn't think it likely that the little Molmolian would randomly surface and spirit the Kanrinin away to her room at present. It wouldn't be the first time, but the mood just wasn't right for a random kidnapping. Sara just wouldn't be interested, being too young for some reasons and too old for others. Naru……

Just no.

One of two, then. One of them would probably prove to be harmless, and not change anything.

The other option would most definitely change something.

Motoko didn't want to consider it.

Hence she had spent much of the afternoon studying, which she may as well have done blindfolded given how much (or little, for those who like their glasses half-empty) she actually remembered. Following much frustration she had eventually thrown her books down, and retired to the roof in order to meditate, to find some form of focus.

This wasn't going well either.

Every time she felt like she was nearing some form of balance, the present would pop back into her mind. It also didn't help that she instinctively reached out to the Ki of the Hinata Sou whenever she meditated, and would then hurriedly snap off the connection soon as it was made. The woven strands of life energy she gained from the old house and its occupants were normally welcome and comforting as an old blanket, even if they had been turbulent of late. But today…..

Today she was scared. Scared in case she found a change, one that could confirm her suspicions.

Shifting her numbed legs beneath her and opening her olive eyes, the ronin sighed. It had taken her a long time to admit that Keitaro was not, in fact, a vile lecherous pervert who was the embodiment of everything dirty and shameful that polluted the male half of the human race. Once that hurdle was crossed, it had taken far less time for her to see what others had seen (and some refused to acknowledge). That the man was kind-hearted and well meaning, and also possessed an indefinable spark which drew people to him like the proverbial moth to the proverbial flame.

The surprise turned to appreciation, and then to……well, something a lot more than appreciation. Motoko didn't know if it was love but it swelled and blossomed whenever the man was near, and screamed in agony at the very thought that it may go unanswered.

Actually, agony was not quite a strong enough word for the aching hollowness that currently occupied the girl's chest.

With a quiet sigh that dissipated instantly in the wind, Motoko brushed a few icy flakes from her raven-black kimono, allowing herself to think about what might be. She had sworn her loyalty to Keitaro, and was more than content to follow the pledge to the end. In fact, the girl was comforted by the thought that she was still indebted to her Kanrinin. It meant she wouldn't be discarded thoughtlessly, that she would have a place in his life no matter what.

Yet…..

Was that really enough any more?

She'd said as such to her sister, to Mitsune in a rare moment of translucency and even to herself time after time, determined to believe it was the honest truth. Now she wasn't sure. The thought of being alone was as shattering as ever, but the idea of living with the yawning emptiness that sat just above her abdomen wasn't much more appealing.

So what to do then?

Clouded green eyes followed the path of a single snowflake amidst the chaotic paths woven by its brothers, eyes honed to see reality both outside and within, eyes suddenly missing their focus. The young woman knew there were endless paths before her, leading in every direction imaginable. Academia, literature, the martial arts. Yet none of them were lit, each one trailing off into the darkness and whatever was contained in its shrouded depths.

Motoko knew there would be no light until there was knowledge of one fact. So it was the slim figure once more settled with legs folded and palms resting in her lap, closed eyelids not denying her sight as she searched through the strands of life which made up the household, hoping dearly to find them unchanged.

It was the work of moments for her finely tuned senses to detect the truth. The sense of joy, the red string bonding two who until today were unbound.

Slowly she opened her eyes once more, unheeding of the slick fluid trailing from them both.

It was true. And the dream was suddenly over.

The one who had found her focus, after so long living in ignorance, was suddenly lost once again.

As the chasm that now occupied her chest threatened to swallow her whole, the woman who embodied control and reticence did the only thing she felt she could.

Throw her head into her hands, and weep as the snow fell around her unabated.

--

--

She was sweaty, and tired. The strings of the hammock were beginning to cut into her back, and she couldn't say for sure how long it had been since she'd slept in her real bed. Quite literally peeling a yellow (and yellowing further) sock from her foot and holding it in vague proximity to her nose, Kaolla winced as the smell of week-old cheddar wafted into her nostrils without her even taking a sniff. Yes, it had been too long since she'd done, well, anything. Other than eat bananas, drink water and answer nature's inevitable calls all she'd done for an indeterminate amount of time was work.

Now, the Hinata-Sou's resident genius was known for her ability to be single minded. It was true that she could only truly focus on one thing at any one time. The problem was, the actual amount of time she usually focussed on a single task or object was in the order of milliseconds. To devote her attention to one project for any longer than ten minutes at a time was unheard of.

The girl would be the first to admit that it didn't agree with her. She had a headache, a stomach ache and the ache to set fire to something, anything. Whether it be the piles of trashed paper, the failed Mecha-Tamas littering her room like pebbles on a beach or just the Hinata-sou as a whole Su didn't know. All she did know was she was well and truly sick of doing what she was doing.

But continue she would, until her work was done.

At some point hours had blurred into days, and still she seemed not an inch closer to her goal. Every time she felt fit to throw her hands up and quit, the image of another friend laying face-down and unconscious swam before her eyes, and another sketch was forcing itself through her leaden fingers without a conscious thought.

Kaolla had had no idea that reality would be such an utter bastard to live with.

Peering at the blueprint currently occupying the pad in her hands, the girl felt a momentary flicker of delight at what appeared to be a successful design until her cut-glass-sharp mind noted one of her calculations was a factor of ten out. An amendment and a few sums later the idea joined the ever-increasing junk pile, accompanied by a few choice words that would make Mitsune's eyes open wide. Scowling darkly, the tan-skinned princess threw what remained of her notebook into the air and drew a very dangerous looking object she'd pocketed from a Mecha-Tama she'd dismantled a few days ago.

The pull of a trigger, a flash of light and ashes showered the girl like confetti.

It was the fourth notebook to meet such a fate, and on each occasion the therapeutic value lessened that bit more. Hence she was still in a seriously bad mood, and as Keitaro was about to find out, surprising Kaolla Su when she was in a huff was potentially a terminally bad idea.

"Hard day?" An instant after opening his mouth the man found himself staring down the barrel of a rather large gun, the end of which glowed ominously half a centimetre from his nose.

"Oh, it's you Keitaros." Su acknowledged, lowering her weapon in understanding. She hadn't been expecting company with her security countermeasures at full force, but after everything that had taken place the girl had exempted her Kanrinin from anything potentially harmful. And since almost all of her countermeasures were potentially harmful there was little to stop him simply walking straight in.

"What's going on, Su-chan?" Gazing at the scene surrounding him, Keitaro nudged a piece of discarded machinery with his foot, jumping back in alarm when it emitted a plume of black smoke. "Why have you broken down all of your machines?"

"To make them work."

"Make them work?" The bespectacled man echoed, brown eyes wide with surprise. "They worked just fine if I remember rightly. Usually against me."

"But where's the point in that?" Su muttered, sitting morosely on her hammock and letting her legs dangle aimlessly over the side.

"When did the point ever matter?"

"When I realised there might be one." Gesturing with a sweeping hand at the destruction surrounding her, the girl sighed in frustration. "None of them could have saved Mitsune if she'd been even sicker; none of them are good for anything that matters. I just want to make something useful, something that could help if it happened again."

"I see." Keitaro said, taking a seat beside her and surveying the wreckage himself. "I take it things aren't going well."

"Nope." Su stated simply, fingers flexing in frustration. "Nothing works at all, it's just one huge disaster after another." Her voice and face blank, the girl betrayed her anxiety by leaning instinctively into Keitaro and clutching his arm tightly.

"Su-chan, you should stop." Blinking in surprise the Molmolian peered up at her visitor.

"But Keitaros, it's important. It could be anyone next time……" The man replied by shaking his head, staring at the mess with calm eyes.

"That's what the emergency services are for." Sensing Su about to protest, Keitaro continued quickly. "Look, it takes an awfully long time to make something that does a job day-in, day-out. There are a million and one things that need to be considered, and the people who design things like ambulances are specialists. You're just not…..capable of doing it, Su-chan."

The diminutive girl's light eyes seemed to dim noticeably, face dipping forwards to stare at the seemingly useless hands now curled in her lap. "You know, I honestly thought….. I could help. Make a difference for once. Looks like I'll never be able to make anything worth making." She muttered, unfamiliar dejection settling around her shoulders like a leaden shawl.

"What do you mean?" The obvious puzzlement in Keitaro's voice drew her head back up, to see brown eyes regarding her with something approaching disbelief. "You can make a world of difference!"

"But you said….."

"I didn't really explain properly. You're not a girl who deals with practicalities –" Seeing Su about to jump in, the man held up a hand to silence her. "-But look at what you can do. You're capable of making things no-one else can, of defying logic and as many laws of physics as you can get your hands on! You're brilliant, Su-chan." Keitaro finished, an odd sort of pride ringing clear in his voice.

At that moment, Su did something she'd probably never done before.

Blush.

"W-well, thanks." Feeling an odd light-headedness and the urge to play with her fingers (something she later researched and understood to be an emotion known as 'bashfulness') the girl managed to stutter out a question. "But it's still useless really….."

"Then let someone else use it. You could make a huge difference if you sold some of these designs. A huge profit too, but that's another story." Shifting his weight so Su could lean against him more easily, Keitaro pointed at one of the few intact mechas still remaining. "Like the fuel cell on that model. It'd be revolutionary. And I'm not even going to go into the anti-gravity and propulsion systems." Feeling a little more on even ground, the young girl chuckled lightly, waving a dismissive hand.

"Ah, that's last month's model Keitaros. That's a dinosaur. My new one is twice as smooth with half the noise." Snorting quietly, the man beside her shook his head.

"That's just what I mean. Let people who specialise in the mundane get their hands on that and make it work every day. You should just go on doing the impossible." Eyeing the armaments bristling from the machine warily, Keitaro swallowed before adding a corollary. "I'm not saying you should let everything loose, but the bits that aren't used for blowing things up could be really useful."

"I don't know, I don't want any of this used for bad stuff." Su admitted.

"Well, there's always the risk. Governments are always fighting to tip the balance of power, so there's always going to be weapons of war." Keitaro agreed, nodding. "But I don't think your technology will change that if it's made widely available. Then no-one will have an advantage they could exploit, and think of what good it could do."

The pair puzzled over the dilemma for a short while, before the tan figure shrugged.

"Well, I guess I could give them some of my older stuff, and keep the really neat new kit to myself. Then I'll always have the advantage if I needed it." The girl finished cheerily, broad grin back in its rightful place. "Plus it'll keep me in bananas for life."

"That's my Su-chan." Keitaro smiled, patting the girl on her off-white head and receiving another small blush as a result. "Nice to see you back." Again feeling that unfamiliar sensation creeping up on her, Su gave into temptation and simply glomped the man.

"Heya Keitaros. Nice to be back." With her traditional cheek-to-cheek greeting, the girl could almost feel her limbs filling with the fizz which normally occupied them. In addition…..

The deep, almost seismic rumbling of a very hungry stomach caused a big cheesy smile on the young princess' face and a rather large sweatdrop to form on her Kanrinin's brow.

"Hungry, Su-chan?"

"Starvin'! When's dinner?"

"Won't be long." Scooping up an uneaten banana, Keitaro handed it to the girl who proceeded to peel and demolish it in less time than would take most people to say thank-you.

"Ah, better!" She cheered, depositing the skin into her recently ignored compost-condenser system and cracking her knuckles with a sound akin to a steamroller driving across a field of walnuts.

"Glad to hear it." Standing from his place in the hammock, Keitaro stretched carefully, wincing as a vertebra or two audibly re-aligned themselves. "The food will be ready in half-an-hour, I'll ask Shinobu to make extra tonight."

"Ta." The girl replied, already dancing her way around the clearing and cleaning up the mess with her normal vigour.

"See you later."

"Later Keitaros!" Pausing at the doorway, Keitaro smiled as the vivacious girl idly waved a hand over her shoulder before setting to work on re-constructing one of her decommissioned machines. Sliding the door shut he decided to alert the other residents that dinner was on the horizon – if he was going to stand before the firing squad, he'd rather only do it once.

--

--

Naru gazed at the bag sat in the corner of her room, puzzling over what to do with its contents. Having half-unpacked, she wasn't sure whether to complete the job and make an effort to settle in or to leave everything where it was to save time packing later.

Taking her honey eyes off the bag, the student looked around her room with little enthusiasm. The walls were bare and the shade of dark cream – not her favourite colour. She had to admit, she missed her peach wallpaper and matching bedclothes. Sara McDougal, however, had firmly laid claim to that room and already patch-worked the walls with posters of anime characters and musicians – Naru doubted the girl could be removed from her new home with a crowbar.

On the other hand, she mused, at least there wasn't a big patch of miss-matched wood in the middle of the floor.

Trying not to focus on that fact too much, the young lady brushed an errant lock of honey hair from her face as she stood and strode over to the window, placing her elbows on the sill as she stared at the scene before her. Funny really, but even the view seemed wrong. It was nice, breathtaking even. To one side forest and mountains clothed in white, piercing the low cloud and vanishing into its murky depths. To the other the long staircase swept clear of snow, beyond which the massive urban sprawl that made up one of the busiest cities on earth huddled beneath the threatening sky. Even so, it wasn't _her_ view. Her view was the one Sara now saw every morning, and to see it from even a slightly different angle just served to remind Naru what she didn't have

Yes, she loved the Hinata-sou, and loved all the people in it, even if some of them didn't share the same sentiments at the present time. But she just wasn't sure if it was her home any more.

Realising time was passing by, the girl pushed herself off the sill and decided to go down for dinner. Keitaro had passed by her door earlier, and even though he hadn't come in Naru could tell that more than just eating was going to happen at the table. It was strange, when she actually listened to what the man had to say, how much more she understood beneath the words. Shame that the realisation had come far too late.

Glancing down at herself, the girl decided that her current garb – a slightly outsized grey sweater and equally bland jogging bottoms – would do the job for now. Strolling towards the lounge without any great rush, Naru mulled over the potential reasons why Keitaro would sound…..nervous.

None of them, from her point of view, were good.

Finally pacing down the last staircase, the student viewed the group already sat at the table with curiosity. It was nice to see Su back, and eating with her usual gusto, although the unhappy look on Shinobu's face suggested the return of her usual appetite didn't sit well with everyone. The violet-eyed girl spared Naru a nod before vanishing back into the kitchen – hardly a warm welcome, but more than she was used to. Sara paused in her food inhalation to splutter 'hey!' before resuming, while Mutsumi avoided her eyes altogether.

Again, not unusual.

Finding herself automatically looking for Mitsune, Naru had to shake herself before taking an empty spot at the table next to Tsuruko. Who, she remembered too late, was very much a factor in what had passed before.

"Ah, Naru-san. Kind of you to join us." The normally slim figure said cheerfully, so cheerfully that it caused the girl to start sweating. "I trust you are well?"

"Uhmm, yeah….."

"Good." Tsuruko smiled, giving Naru a Look. The Look said 'I know you're uncomfortable, and I know you know you're uncomfortable. And I like that you're uncomfortable because if you're uncomfortable it means you've finally taken your head from your backside and taken a sniff of fresh air. But I won't set your mind at rest because I want you to taste a bit of your own medicine, and oh yes, there's a heck of a lot more where this came from if you even think of crossing the line again.'

It's surprising how much one look can say, really.

Tearing her eyes away, Naru instead focussed on the figure sitting to the other side of Tsuruko, who didn't seem the least bit interested in her dinner. Or anything else, to be honest. Motoko sat statuesque, olive irises resting heavily on the table. If the girl was aware she was being studied, she showed no indication of the fact.

"I'd leave her alone. She's been like that for a few hours." Letting her attention return to the older Aoyama, Naru was surprised to find a hint of sympathy on her face.

"But why?" The sympathy deepened, and Naru couldn't help but feel like it was no longer being directed at Motoko.

"I feel you may understand soon enough."

"Wha-"

"Oh, hi Naru-san." Keitaro interrupted, nudging his way through the kitchen door hefting a rather large steaming bowl full of chicken ramen. Setting it down in the centre of the table and watching Su and Sara turn their attention from the starter to the main course; Keitaro took his seat between Mutsumi and Su. Slightly closer to one than the other, Naru noted, before hurriedly squashing the suspicion before it could take hold. Suspicions had cost her far too much already, after all.

The dinner as eaten in relative silence – two of those present were too busy eating, and with Motoko apparently brooding and Shinobu equally quiet (although being sat beside Naru didn't exactly encourage conversation). Before desert, however, Keitaro stood and held his hands up to those at the table. As there was little noise anyway it made little difference in that respect, but he was instantly and obviously the centre of attention.

"Okay, two things. One, I'm glad to say I've been informed Mitsune should be moving out of high-dependency tomorrow. Hopefully that means we'll all get to pay her a visit." He added, glancing at Su and Sara. Su nodded eagerly, Sara kept on eating. With a half-smile the Kanrinin returned his focus to the group as a whole. "Two, well, I have something to tell you…..." As Naru watched, Keitaro almost seemed to glance at her and Motoko, speech obviously faltering.

"……Yes?" Tsuruko prompted politely, sipping at her tea.

"Well, that is, I…….we……" Briefly, the man's eyes flickered down at Mutsumi as if asking for help. With a tiny nod the gentle Okinawan made to stand, and out of the corner of her eye Naru saw movement.

It was Motoko, and she was clutching her hands together to keep them from moving while her bottom lip was in danger of being bitten in half. Slowly, and with growing dread, the honey-haired student returned her attention to the pair now stood together as two and two began to make four.

"Kei and I have been talking, and realise we have come to love one other. So as of today, we're together." She stated simply, fingers entwining with those of the man beside her.

Around the table, the reactions were mixed. Su and Sara cheered raucously, the former sparing a sympathetic look to Shinobu who sat stoically in resigned silence. Tsuruko merely nodded comfortably while beside her Motoko smiled a particular kind of smile, seemingly ignorant that her lip was starting to ooze with crimson fluid.

In the middle of them all, Naru sat with her mouth ajar, looking directly into the eyes of the man opposite. For a moment there was the tiniest hint of remorse in the gaze, something that quickly dissolved until all that remained was honest happiness, eager anticipation of his new future. While the pair linked their arms and re-took their seats to serve dessert and answer a barrage of questions from Sara, Naru's honey eyes still stared blankly into space. Yes, it was already over, and the girl had started reconciling the fact. But to see her two best friends together, and so clearly happy……

If someone had asked her weeks ago how she would feel if something like this happened, after scoffing at the very idea the girl would probably have gone off on a tirade lasting at least twenty minutes. But in truth, now that she was watching Mutsumi comfortably embracing what once was hers, one word was all she needed.

Numb.

Numb while she ate dessert and tried to ignore the happy couple, numb while she bathed alone that night, numb when she climbed into the unfamiliar bed and tried to sleep.

Just numb.

--

--

That's all for now.

Chapter 21 is already well under way, hopefully will be a little quicker!

'Til next time.

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	21. Chapter 21

Well, time for chapter 21.

Not quite so long in coming as some of its predecessors, which is a good thing I think.

It's fair to say things are moving along (at long last). Should be about 3 chapters after this one, methinks. What on earth I'm going to do with my time thereafter…..well, I suppose I'll find out when this is finished!

Big thanks again to all those that read and reviewed, the comments and suggestions you make really do help. The number has dropped off since the pairing came to be, but I kinda expected it to be the case. Lots of Motoko fans are understandably unhappy with me, but I suppose you can't win them all. Maybe I should start another project with a different ship when this is done…..

Anyhow, time to get on with the main business.

--

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Repercussions – Chapter 21

--

--

To Motoko's credit, she had managed to get through dinner and dessert, and then get back to her room before the inevitable took place. Now, twenty minutes later she dabbed gingerly at her perforated lip with a tissue that was already soaked, slumped on her knees in the middle of her room.

It had been far worse seeing the proof than simply knowing.

Feeling nauseous and with the headache from Hades brewing like a storm on the horizon, the young lady allowed herself to rock to one side and rest on her still unrolled futon. When she'd learnt life's lessons with Tsuruko, Motoko had found her eyes opened forcefully and completely. On one hand, it had allowed her to experience joys she'd never have thought possible. On the other, it allowed her to experience horrors previously unimaginable.

For the first time since that day, Motoko sincerely wished she'd been left blind.

"Imoutochan." The calm contralto voice interrupting her privacy was the last thing she wanted to hear.

"Yes, Oneesan?" All the same she acknowledged it, rolling to face her older sister. For a long moment the pair looked at one another, one making no attempt to conceal her feelings while the other made no comment of them.

"I wish to pass on my heartfelt sympathies." Tsuruko eventually stated, not unkindly, as she stepped towards her sister. "I know of the depth of affection you harbour for the man, I do not doubt it is of a similar magnitude to that I possess for my husband."

"…..I don't need reminding of that, Oneesan." Motoko choked, eyes tightly closed.

"All the same, I must express my sorrow. I honestly had hoped Keitaro would be the man for you to share your life with, but alas it seems this will not be possible." The older woman finished, apparently unaware of the effect reiterating the truth was having.

Gritting her teeth, it took all Motoko's will not to scream at her sister. As it was, the words were politely spoken but forcefully nonetheless. "I know. Now please leave me, Oneesan. I wish to spend the evening alone."

"Very well. But there is one more thing I must press upon you before I do go." Tsuruko paused at the door, looking down at the supine figure. "I know it is not an opportune time to mention such things, but I must insist we decide upon the school's future. Very soon."

"What?!" Her despair instantly converted to rage, Motoko almost flew upright. "How can you ask that of me at this moment?"

"I do not want to, I simply must." Her sister replied, an odd expression upon her face.

"Then why?"

"Because, Imoutochan, I sense the time is rapidly approaching."

Motoko's red-rimmed eyes widened, and focussed on Tsuruko's swollen abdomen. "You mean….."

"I cannot say precisely, such things are only for the gods to know. But time is short; I know it well as I know myself." The woman replied, a well concealed hint of anxiety just detectable to her younger sister's ears. "It is my wish that my child be born at home, as in the tradition of the Aoyama clan. Hence I must press you to consider your future now, even if doing so is to our mutual distaste." She concluded, turning to make her exit.

"Was it not you who requested time to make a decision?" Motoko spat, annoyance outweighing her surprise.

"It was, Imoutochan. But that does not mean that when I make my own decision that you have not reconsidered yours."

"My decision is made! My home is here!" The younger sister cried, nails digging into her palms. "That fact has not changed, oneesan."

"Be that as it may, I believe your future lies with the art." Tsuruko answered coldly, not looking back as she opened the door. "I suggest you consider what may lay ahead very….carefully, Imoutosan. A mistake now could have huge, possibly lifelong, repercussions." Without so much as a 'goodnight' the woman closed the door behind her firmly, leaving Motoko staring at it blankly as the words spoken filtered through her mind.

So that was that, it seemed.

Farewell Motoko Aoyama.

Hello Motoko.

--

--

Keitaro didn't consider himself a master of reading people. He'd always been able to tell when someone was about to send him skyscraping or when someone was really upset, but never much more than that. Although he'd become much more adept since Motoko's teachings began he still wasn't what you would call an expert. All the same, instincts were telling him that Mutsumi wasn't quite her usual self. The fact the brunette was an awful actor might have something to do with it – while very good at playing dead, Mutsumi's facial expressions could be read by a blind man at a masquerade. The blissful smile was, from time to time, less than blissful. When she thought he wasn't looking it occasionally vanished completely, replaced by an expression of nervous anxiety.

Hence, as he sat in his temporary bed that night, the Kanrinin resolved to find out why. It wasn't as if he would have to wait long – she would be joining him soon, which is why he was sat wide awake, swathed in well-worn bedsheets to keep the chill from his bare chest. Glancing up at the clock to see it on the brink of midnight, Keitaro relaxed back into the comfortable old sofa and propped his feet on the table. Mutsumi was keen for him to join her in her room – insisting of course that she would have the chair. While the very idea of sleeping in a girls room (with her there, no less!) sent shivers down his spine, Keitaro had to admit there were definite up-sides. The major one being with the Okinawan, as good-night (and good-morning) kisses were very pleasant. Very, very pleasant in fact. All in all, the man mused, waking up with someone you love was an excellent reason to go to sleep with them.

Keitaro blinked at the thought, before breaking out into a genuine smile. It had taken him long enough to be brave enough to admit it to himself. Hopefully it wouldn't take so long before he admitted it to her. Three little words made a huge difference, even to someone who had pledged to wait forever. A little like he had in the not-so-distant past.

Perhaps that made the difference even bigger…..

In any case, the pair had decided that traipsing off to bed together would be rubbing people's faces in it just a little. Hence the plan to wait until all was quiet, and then for her to come down and fetch him. If they were to come across anyone on the way, well, at least they were trying to avoid stepping on toes.

Being caught creeping up to the room together would look suspicious as hell, but that couldn't be helped.

The clock struck twelve, and the Kanrinin began to wonder when his room-mate was going to arrive. The thought barely had time to take root before the sound of soft footsteps, accompanied by the occasional creak of an ageing floorboard, drifted from the stairway. _Think of the devil…._ The man smiled as barely a moment later a shapely figure stepped into view, brushing a hand across tired mahogany eyes.

"Ara, I think Sara is still playing around with her television but otherwise I haven't heard a sound." Mutsumi murmured, sloping across the room with a petite yawn clothed by an open palm.

"She falls asleep with it still on half the time. I know because she's been living above me for a few weeks. Well, technically anyway." Keitaro finished, acknowledging that his room was still not inhabitable, or even his again yet.

"I doubt she will cause us any trouble." Nodding to herself, the pyjama-clad girl sat next to Keitaro and smiled with obvious happiness. "So, want to join me Kei? It's much more comfortable upstairs….." As the smile became a little more Kitsune and a little less Mutsumi, the man had to swallow and remind himself forcefully that he had other things on the agenda. It didn't help that the girl was ridiculously cute, clad in her silken blue pyjamas and bathed in the glow of lamplight, and while her attire left plenty to the imagination his mind was more than adept at filling in the gaps.

"Just, uh, one thing Mutsumi." The man reached under his blanket to loosen his collar, only to be reminded he didn't have one. Colouring further he fixated on his hands, trying to keep the blood from flowing to his nose. "I…..it seems like something's not right. With you, I mean." Instantly the face of the girl beside him dropped, her smile evaporating.

"I see." She sighed, lips pursed together anxiously as her eyes stopped sparkling and began to glimmer.

Keitaro's old reflexes kicked in.

"Nononono! I don't mean you're wrong or anything, not that you're right either, but….." With visible effort the man managed to stop babbling, and instead took a deep breath, focussing on what he wanted to say. "What I mean is…..I thought you'd be happy, but you're not. Not like you usually are. You look sad when you think I won't notice, and I just want to know why……" For several long seconds the girl beside him stared down at her feet, features a study in guilt. As his concern rose to boiling point, she eventually sighed and looked up at him, wide eyes fearful but determined.

"Ara, I can't hide anything from you Kei. I'm afraid I've got to come clean, I did something I'm not proud of. It involves you and…..Naru. And Mitsune too." She began, working the hem of her silk pyjamas between worried fingers and trying to ignore a faint, almost rhythmic creaking as the frigid February winds swept against the old house's walls. "It was that night a few weeks ago, the one when we held a party in honour of your birthday."

"I think I remember it." Keitaro remarked slightly dryly, drawing a half-chuckle from his companion.

"I imagine you do. Anyway, it was at the end of the night, and I was getting a little…..tipsy from the drink. I don't know why, but I started thinking about you, and Naru, and how much I hated what was going on. It was driving me over the edge, I just couldn't stand the way she treated you Kei." Mutsumi said in a quiet murmur, face drawn and pale. "I…..I decided right there and then I didn't want to see it happen any more, I couldn't. Something had to be done, and no-one else seemed prepared to step in….." The girl trailed off, her nerve failing.

"Mutsumi, I promise I won't jump to conclusions." Keitaro reassured her, softly placing a palm on her shoulder. "Come on, you can tell me."

"Ara….." Taking a deep, sighing breath Mutsumi blinked her eyes clear and continued, tone hesitant and faltering. "Well, I decided I wanted to bring things to a head, so I sort of…..set things up. I don't know, at the time I thought I was trying to push Naru into making a decision, but looking back how I thought things could have gone any other way….." Seeing the girl start to ramble, Keitaro gave the shoulder beneath his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Please." He said simply, brown eyes resting on those before him. For several ticks of the clock, the only other sound audible was the wind swirling outside.

"It was doomed from the start." Mutsumi whispered, arms crossed and hugging one another tightly. "I talked Mitsune into some dirty dancing, spun you into her waiting arms and then woke Naru so she'd see what was happening. I told myself that her possessive streak would make her pull you away, maybe even dance with you, just do something to prove she wanted you. But deep down I wonder if I knew what would _really_ happen the second Naru saw you with Mitsune. That I was banking on her temper pushing her over the edge….." As the dark-haired girl's voice faded away, a small but distinct noise echoed through the room.

A sharp intake of breath.

Mutsumi didn't even have time to judge Keitaro's reaction before a new figure stalked into the room, fingers curled tightly into fists, honey eyes thunderous.

"You set me up?!" Naru barked, storming over to the seated pair with venomous intent.

"Naru-san!" Ignoring Keitaro's surprised yelp the furious girl stopped right in front of Mutsumi, physically trembling with poorly suppressed rage.

"Is this true? You planned to split us up?" The voice was dangerously low, oozing with intent.

"……" Mutsumi sat mutely, head bowed and mahogany eyes closed, giving Naru all the proof she needed.

"I don't believe it." She snarled, shaking her honey-haired head in disbelief. "I do. Not. Believe. It. I counted you as a friend, you snake!"

"Naru-san, calm dow-" Silencing Keitaro with a swipe of her hand, Naru seethed at the figure sat submissively before her.

"All those times you said you would support us, that you wouldn't stand in my way, they were all lies?" Laughing bitterly, the slim woman felt a hollow triumph as Mutsumi seemed to wince at her verbal barrage. "Pah, I should have known. You'd sell your soul for that ronin, so what does a friendship matter?" Glaring, Naru almost missed a barely audible word uttered by the girl at the focus of her ire. "What was that, traitor?"

"Once." Mutsumi said a little louder, still staring at her lap. "It was once, Naru-san."

"Hah, once? Once still makes you guilty, Mutsumi-san." Drunk on her own rage, Naru barely noticed a change come over the Okinawan. However, Keitaro looked on anxiously as Mutsumi's shoulders seemed to stiffen, her hands curling in on themselves and her teeth audibly grinding against one another.

"Naru-san, stop this." Ignoring the Kanrinin's plea, Naru gave a disparaging shrug and a snort.

"No. I want her to know just how nice betrayal feels….."

"It was ONCE!" The pair jumped as a raw-throated scream ripped through the room. Fearfully looking at the lady beside him, Keitaro felt his mouth go dry as Mutsumi stared up at Naru with an expression that was simply terrifying on such a placid face. "Once! I betrayed your trust just once!"

"Wha?" The younger girl took a half-step back, her own fire suddenly doused.

"One time only! Yet now I'm the guilty one!" Mutsumi yelled, dark eyes brimming with furious water. "But what about you, Naru-san? You betrayed my every single time you laid a finger on my Kei-kun! I stepped aside to let you have what I couldn't. Happiness. And you wasted it! I felt every punch you landed, shivered at each cold word casually spoken. Don't talk about betrayal to me!"

For a long moment the last syllable hung in the air, Naru and Mutsumi staring at one another with eyes ablaze.

Inevitably, it was the Okinawan that cracked.

Head sinking into her hands the girl sank back into the chair with a loud sob, messy brown hair flopping down to obscure her face. Keitaro placed a warm hand on her trembling shoulders while he looked on with utter disbelief. Glancing at Naru he could see the exact same reaction from her, all semblance of anger gone.

"Naru-san."

"…..Huh?" Naru turned her blank gaze on her one-time beloved, who was carefully stroking Mutsumi's back with his left palm.

"I think you should go to bed. We'll sort this out in the morning." He stated quietly, voice quiet and firm.

Naru didn't even argue. The bespectacled girl simply turned and left quickly as her bare feet would allow her to, cloak of leaden numbness settling firmly back in place.

He'd chosen someone else.

Her future didn't have him in it.

The girl reeled as reality struck, placing her hands to her temples as if trying to regain her balance. Hurriedly she picked up her pace, keen to get back to her room before anyone appeared to find out what all the noise was about.

Meanwhile on the sofa, Keitaro sat silently with his arm around the disconsolate figure beside him. The girl had quietened to the point where the only noise was that of sniffling, occasionally accompanied by a tiny hiccup.

The ex-ronin felt awful about sending Naru away so coolly, but he had another priority. The priority in question was currently unfolding from her shell, mussy-haired head tilting up to look at him. The moment her face came into view Keitaro felt poison flow thorough his veins, the same poison that had venomously paralysed him in the springs and then on the porch barely a day before.

How he hated seeing those brown eyes damp and empty.

"I-I'm sorry Kei. I couldn't take it any more….." Mutsumi croaked, withdrawing a tissue from her sleeve and dabbing at her cheeks. "I didn't mean to snap, but I can't say she didn't deserve it."

"It's okay." The man murmured, holding his companion tighter.

"No, no it's not. I'm such a fraud." Shaking her head, the girl chuckled bitterly. "I built everything with you on trust, played the card time and time again, all the while knowing that I'd betrayed it. I'm a hypocrite of the worst kind. Even so, I'm not worried about what Naru thinks of me – to be honest I couldn't care less." Afraid to even look up Mutsumi swallowed anxiously, her throat constricting. "But if you…..if you hate me for it….."

"No." The answer was instantaneous.

"Kei….." Taken by surprise Mutsumi peered blurrily up at her beloved.

"Look. I can't say I'm delighted, or that it was the right thing to do. But in the end…..it did what needed to be done. If you never do anything, nothing will ever change – running over the same old ground, bowing and scraping and pleading for forgiveness would never have taken me anywhere. Some things aren't meant to be, I guess. Besides, I forgave her time and again, so it'd be wrong for me not to do the same for you."

With a sigh of relief, Mutsumi allowed her body to relax, eyelids prickling as she sank into the man beside her. "Ara, Kei-kun……"

"Ohh, there is one other thing. I know that how this came to be wasn't perfect, but – " Breaking off, Keitaro placed a gentle kiss on the Okinawan's brow, smiling broadly at the girl held tightly in his grasp. "- I wouldn't trade what I have now for anything, or anyone for that matter."

For what could have been an age the pair gazed at one another, matching eyes seeking and finding confirmation. Without a spoken word the space between the two faces closed, eyes shutting as lips met one another in a gentle caress. A moment of indecision passed before, incredibly gingerly, Keitaro allowed his tongue to edge out and brush the silken surface of Mutsumi's upper lip, as if seeking permission for something he wasn't sure he wanted.

A split-second later he found himself flat on his back with a buxom figure pressing her ample body against him, her tongue hungrily caressing his own with a passion twenty years in the making. Once the shock cleared Keitaro became very keenly aware that having a beautiful woman pounce on you was a very, very nice sensation. As he began to return the gestures, the man became even more keenly aware that his body had responded in ways he was accustomed to, but not while it was in firm contact with someone else's. The sudden glint in Mutsumi's eyes suggested she was also aware of the fact, and found it very much to her liking.

"Uh…..sorry." The girl sprawled over Keitaro grinned broadly, her kiss-smudged face lighting up like a beacon.

"Oh, I'm not Kei." Allowing her hands to continue their exploration of the man's chest, Mutsumi wriggled slightly, letting out a sultry giggle when Keitaro audibly groaned beneath her. "There's plenty of time for that kind of thing later on, I'm not planning on being a mother yet. But that….." Breaking off to place another breath-robbing kiss that left Keitaro mute, the flushed girl eased back with another laugh that her throat couldn't contain. "…..that doesn't mean we can't have some fun in the meantime."

"……Ara." Keitaro gasped, speech finally returning to him. "I think I know what all those books were on about now."

"Read them all." Mutsumi replied, easing herself off her temporary mattress, much to her mattress's obvious displeasure. Displeasure which vanished as she held a hand out to him, smiling a smile which promised much. "So, care to go somewhere more…..private?"

One of the ultimate no-brainer questions. Keitaro was on his feet as if fired by catapult.

Taking the proffered hand, the Kanrinin allowed himself to be lead to the stairs, clicking off the light as he went.

"Mutsumi?" Keitaro's voice was quiet, barely above the noise of padding feet.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Mutsumi closed her eyes blissfully as she smiled, gripping the hand held in hers all the tighter.

"I know."

--

--

Naru huffed quietly as she zipped her case shut, having stripped the room of her possessions with all the haste she could muster. Returning to the Hinata-sou had seemed like a good idea to begin with, but after the last few days….Mitsune's collapse, the true reflection of the damage her temper had done, Shinobu's disgust, seeing Keitaro taken by another woman and finally being torn apart by someone she'd always considered a friend…..

Too much was too much. She had to get out.

At least she thought she did.

Taking a seat against a bare wall the young lady let out a long sigh, studying the ceiling with tired eyes. She always had run at the first sight of trouble. Sometimes it had served her well, sometimes it did more damage than at first realised. To run now would be the final act.

If she ran now, there would be no return, not even as a visiting friend or outsider. It would be over, the Hinata-sou and its residents would be dead to her. And, in all likelihood, she to them.

The girl still fully intended to leave. Leave for a long time, probably never to return as a resident. But to cut herself adrift from them all, probably for good?

There were too many fond memories scattered amongst the regrets of the last few days. Too many familiar faces to forget easily. No, if she were to leave, it had to be done properly this time, not in a frantic rush amidst the depths of the night. Peace of some shape or form had to be made, certain doors needed to be closed to allow others to open.

It was time to stop running and face up to what she'd done. Maybe, with a bit of time, she could make peace with her one-time friends.

If she was successful she might, one day, be able to make peace with herself as well.

--

--

Shinobu glared at the rice cooker as if it were the bane of her existence. It wasn't of course, in fact it was one of the most reliable and unobtrusive parts of her life at present. Doing it's job without complaint or grievance, performing it's function perfectly.

Just as it was doing now.

Emitting a steady stream of vaporised water, along with a quite contented hissing noise.

The diminutive girl nearly jumped out of her skin when the clock placed on the counter emitted an offensive buzzing noise, one perfect for announcing when, say, a pot of rice was ready, but less than ideal when it came to disturbing someone from their thoughts. Shinobu had been so far away from reality that an entire poppy harvest and a Pink Floyd album wouldn't have even brought her close to the same place. No need to ask why really.

Slamming a slightly-too-firm hand down on the noisy device and cutting off the obnoxious buzzing, the chef lifted a basket full of steaming white rice from its cooker and set it to one side, allowing it to cool while she chopped some carrots. It was a little early for breakfast, but as she was awake and hungry Six AM seemed as good a time as any. There was plenty of rice in any case, and her desire to chop things up had created a sizeable pile of not-so-neatly sliced vegetables which would doubtless come in useful. It had taken some self-control not to decimate the entire food supply of the Hinata-sou in a massive iron chef cook-off against no-one in a particular, one of her favourite ways of dealing with stress.

Stress was probably not a strong enough word. Shinobu was sure she'd found her first grey hair that morning.

"Enough." She muttered to herself, dropping the well-used knife into the sink along with the pile of dishes and bowls already residing there awaiting cleansing. Rinsing her hands, the diminutive figure placed a large variety of meat and vegetables onto a plate before adding a sizeable scoop of rice. Doubting that she would ever saw her way through the meal she'd prepared but feeling the urge to try, Shinobu put the left-over food into the fridge and shut it very firmly, deciding that anyone else who fancied breakfast this morning could learn to use the microwave. Picking up her own the girl nudged open the door with her hip, and nearly dropped what she was carrying.

"Motoko-san!" Catching her breath, the girl levelled a glare at her unwelcome visitor. "Would it really hurt you that much to knock? Or even say 'I'm here'?"

"I apologise Shinobu-san." Motoko replied steadily, voice absent of inflection. Although she really didn't want to, Shinobu had to notice her visitor was looking less than stellar. In fact, being told the woman had managed a minute of sleep in the last three days it would come as a surprise. Given what Motoko was normally like, it was definitely something worthy of comment.

"There's breakfast there if you want some." Well, it wasn't 'you look like hell warmed up', but it was Shinobu's own way of expressing concern.

"Thank you, but I will pass." Came the answer.

"Fine." Placing her dish down with a clunk, Shinobu withdrew a pair of chopsticks from one pocket and set about demolishing the food upon it. All the while wondering what on earth Motoko was doing sat mutely at the table, showing no indication of doing anything. It took approximately ten seconds for the silence to get on Shinobu's already frayed nerves. "May I ask what you're doing up at this time, Motoko-san?"

"I am not entirely sure, Shinobu-san. I have been seeking somewhere which may bring me peace of mind, but am yet to find it." The bedraggled woman replied, speaking as if in the midst of a dream. "I am praying that at some point a beam of light will illuminate the dark recesses of my mind, an awakening of godly proportions to define my selected path."

Shinobu blink-blinked, before sliding her chair back with a quiet scraping sound and vanishing into the kitchen. Perhaps a minute later she re-appeared with a plate and the inevitable steaming cup. "Eat. Drink. I would say be merry, but that would just be silly." The girl ordered, firm in the conviction that anyone who could actually say what Motoko just said _really_ needed a drink. It wasn't sake, but a hot cup of tea cured most ills. Or made them slightly less unpleasant, at least for a while.

"If you insist." When it was clear Shinobu did, Motoko picked at her food with less than feverish intensity. The young chef could feel her head shaking in disbelief when her breakfast partner dropped several morsels onto her lap without any apparent reaction, and could hardly keep her mouth shut when Motoko managed to dip the cuff of a long white sleeve into her tea without noticing. The ex-swordsmistress was normally the definition of grace and austerity, and this morning she was just so……sloppy.

"I think you might want to watch that left arm, Motoko-san." She said quietly, attempting to make as small a deal of it as possible. The figure opposite lifted her now dripping kimono sleeve out of the liquid, and regarded it with something approaching puzzled amusement.

"Hah. To think I have sunk so far, so fast." Fingers dabbing at the brown stain, the woman shrugged her shoulders, the raven hair running over them rippling with the gesture.

"And I thought I took yesterday badly." Shinobu muttered darkly to herself, returning to her own breakfast.

While some of her skills may have slipped, Motoko's hearing was sharp as ever.

"I must admit, yesterday had a far more profound affect on me than I could have anticipated." She agreed, drawing an embarrassed flush from the figure before her. "It is not easy to accept one-sided affection as you know well. However, I fear I was placing far more than only my heart in Keitaro's unknowing hands."

"Motoko-san….." Shinobu murmured, watching the woman rubbing hands over her tired face.

"I know it is wrong of me to ask, but what would you do in my situation Shinobu-chan? I have a place awaiting me at the helm of my school, an honour afforded to few and revered by many. Yet I doubt my ability to lead them, not through lack of skill but lack of desire. Conversely, I have no clear path awaiting me here, the future I envisaged lies in ashes. Even so, for reasons I cannot fathom, the desire to stay burns within." Sighing deeply, Motoko cast her chopsticks onto the half-full plate before her. "Head or heart. One of life's eternal questions. Which would you follow?"

It took the girl the matter of a second to decide.

"Heart." Pushing her breakfast around her dish, the girl closed her violet eyes in resignation. "You can change your mind, but you can't change your heart. I wish I could, but I'm staying here for better or for worse, so I can live it all with my friends. Some things might not be ideal, and some make me wake up at five in the morning wrapped around my pillow, but I can't imagine life anywhere else." She finished, head solemnly bowed.

The silence which followed was deafening.

"…..Thank you, Shinobu-san, you haven proven to be a great help." Motoko eventually said, slipping her chair back and standing carefully. "Neither of us deserves to be in this position; it is simply great misfortune that we both have come across someone so remarkable in such circumstances. I know I can provide precious little comfort myself, but please, if I can do anything for you do not hesitate to ask." A quiet nod was the only response, but it was all the older woman was expecting. "I will now leave you in peace. Good morning, Shinobu-chan."

Shinobu kept her eyes firmly closed until the retreating footsteps had faded into silence, before taking a long breath and opening them. The first thing she took in was the unfinished state of her own breakfast – something she had little stomach left for. Next was the almost full dish which Motoko had abandoned, a sight which drew a small frown from the girl. The frown sank further as her eyes took in a few errant crumbs and grains of rice on the table, doubtless far fewer than would be on the floor below the recently vacated seat.

"I go and make her breakfast, and she leaves half of it all over the room and half of it behind." The girl grumbled, albeit with a hint of humour. Picking up the unwanted food, she strode through to the kitchen and swept what remained on the plate into the bin before dumping the plate into the already full sink.

For half a second Shinobu felt the burning desire to do the washing up, but shrugged it off. Someone else could do the tidying up for once. She, on the other hand, was going to go and have a long and leisurely bath before catching up on some sleep. Motoko didn't realise it, but she had helped the young schoolgirl in a way she hadn't expected -

She had to admit that while losing the chance to chase the man she desired was bad, having to choose between the devil and the deep blue sea was undoubtedly worse.

--

--

After their last meeting, Mitsune could have been forgiven for not expecting to see Naru again in the imminent future. Yet breakfast hadn't even arrived before her erstwhile friend, who'd dispensed of her coat and scarf in an un-Naru-like rush before taking a seat at her bedside.

The fox didn't even have time to say hello before the inevitable happened.

In the rush of frantic whispers and tears that followed, Mitsune gained an up-to-date summary of life in the Hinata-sou, which was also brutal and no-holds-barred in its honesty. She'd been surprised to find out just how hostile things had become, and even more surprised to learn that Tsuruko had arrived to apparently turn the heat up on Motoko. Surprise didn't quite cut the mustard when her friend revealed Motoko had apparently given up the sword for good.

Even so, Mitsune had surmised that her frantic friend wouldn't be nearly so frantic if that was the big news, so to speak. She'd been proven right when Naru had mentioned the name 'Keitaro' and subsequently gone quiet. So quiet in fact that the girl had felt the need to give a little verbal prompt.

"I think there's more you haven't told me, Naru-chan."

There was. Oh my, was there. The last few days came pouring forth in a torrent, each word making Mitsune's eyebrows inch a little further towards their hairline.

Shinobu's hostility? Well that was to be expected, the little home-maker had really grown teeth when it came to a certain subject.

Keitaro actually _dumping_ Naru?! She'd never credited the guy with enough…..testosterone to do that. Wrong as it was, Mitsune couldn't help feel a guilty tingle at the thought the man may be single at long last. The tingle died an instant death as the next fact emerged.

Mutsumi and Keitaro. Well, she couldn't say she was surprised. Disappointed yes, but not surprised. The pair had always been close. It had always seemed to Mitsune that besides Naru the girl Keitaro had most interest in was the Okinawan, and while the fox had been on planet ethanol they had obviously grown even closer. What this meant for her, or Motoko for that matter, was anyone's guess.

The final chapter to the story had Mitsune checking to make sure she wasn't drunk. To think of all people, it would be Mutsumi that drove Naru off. She'd always thought the girl was made of rubber – easy to bend, impossible to break, always bounced back with a smile.

It was easy to forget that the stronger someone was, the more brittle they were when broken. Turtle-girl had proven to be the strongest of them all, standing firm amidst what could be rightly called chaos while everyone fell apart around her.

Mitsune had always suspected there was more to the girl than just a smile.

"And you know the worst thing?" Returning to the present, the grey-eyed girl looked on as her friend mumbled into a handkerchief, ignorant of curious looks from the staff nearby who were more attuned to visitors sobbing when a patient was dying, not recovering. "The worst thing is she's right. I can't argue or deny what she's saying. Like you said, I've been in my own little world, never really thinking about what I was doing….." Coughing wetly, Naru shifted her glasses to allow her to clean beneath them.

"Ah'm sorry Naru-chan. I tried ta warn ya, I really did ya know?" Mitsune sympathised honestly. "I told ya that if ya kept goin' the way ya were it'd all come crashin' down."

"Yeah, you did." Her friend acknowledged, replacing her bottle-bottom glasses and blowing her nose, emitting a snorting noise not unlike a pig foraging for truffles.

"And ya didn't listen. Honest to gawd Naru-chan, why didn't ya listen? It'd have made it all much easier if ya'd just made up and made merry. I reckon ah'd be outta hospital and we'd all be playin' happy families. Sure we might not all have gotten what we wanted, but least we were content with what we had." Seeing her words were only hammering nails even more firmly into the coffin, the grey fox fell silent with a muttered 'sorry'.

"No, you're right too. Looks like everyone has been right except me." Looking on at her friend, Mitsune wondered where the bright and vibrant Tokyo-University student had gone. One thing she knew however was what the lost little girl sat beside her needed.

"Hey Naru-chan." Glancing up, Naru saw Mitsune spread her arms wide, a shadow of her old smile reappearing. "Come here, ya big lug."

She didn't need a second invitation.

After several minutes of back rubbing (and numerous dark looks to warn nosey nurses away) the older girl released her now calmer friend, who gave her a watery smile in thanks.

"Didn't know how much I needed that." She croaked, recovering her well-worn handkerchief from her sweater sleeve and putting it to good use again. "It's not been the same without you, Kitsune-chan."

"Same here, Naru-chan." Mitsune replied, a cheerful glow colouring her pale face.

"Sorry about going off on one last time….." Naru said, gripping her sweater cuffs tightly beneath her fingers. "Things haven't been easy lately as you can see."

"Nah, don't worry 'bout it. Matter of fact, ah should be apologisin' to ya. I was makin' a mess of my life, an' decided that blamin' ya for mah own cock-ups was a good idea. Guess it's 'cause I didn't want ta blame meself." The grey fox admitted, a heavy sigh punctuating her words. "I 'spose I was kinda pissed that ya were wastin' what I couldn't have. Don't mean I was right ta do it, though."

"We're a sorry pair, aren't we?" Her friend remarked dryly, crossing her legs and propping folded arms upon them.

"Yeah." Shrugging, Mitsune flashed a toothy grin. "'Least we know it now, right?"

"Yep." Naru fiddled with her fingers for a moment, before pushing on. "But I just want you to know, I'm still planning on moving out."

"Wha? Naru-chan, ya can't mean that?" Grin gone, the bed-bound girl stared at her visitor in shock.

"I do, Mitsune-chan. It wouldn't be right for me to stay there."

Mitsune stared at Naru for a long moment, causing the girl to avert her honey-eyed gaze to her tan-coloured sweater. Try as she might, Mitsune couldn't quite fathom life in the Hinata-sou without her long-time companion. "Ah know it's kinda bad right now Naru-chan, but ain't ya over-reactin'?"

"No, my mind is made up. I need to start somewhere fresh; somewhere I don't have to worry about my food being poisoned by purple-haired teenagers." The girl half-joked.

"Yah gotta be kiddin'." Mitsune said, while understanding her friend quite clearly was not.

"Nope. I don't want to wake up every morning and see….." Naru trailed off, feeling no need to state the obvious. While the fox could understand her desire to leave, she still found herself unable to come to terms with it.

"…..Please, Naru. Ah'd be lost there without ya." She pleaded, hand reaching out towards Naru, who took it in her un-plastered grasp.

"You've got a future there Mitsune. I haven't." The student stated plainly, with a shrug. "I'll be around, it won't be goodbye forever, but I can't live there any more."

Silence fell between the pair again, until Naru checked her watch with elevated eyebrows.

"Is that the time?! I've got a meeting with my tutor this morning, and I'm already late….." Getting to her feet, the girl squeezed Mitsune's hand gently before letting it go. "I'll come and see you this evening, perhaps bring you some chocolates to put a little meat back on those curves."

"Naru…..I will see you later, won't I?" To anyone who might be listening, it was obvious Mitsune wasn't asking about visiting hours later that day.

"Yeah, of course you will." Naru replied, with enough certainty to allow her friend to relax back onto her bed slightly more comfortably than before. "Anyhow, take care. See you tonight!" As she walked away with a little more bounce in her step, the grey fox felt a tiny smile pinch at her mouth. It seemed Haruka had been right after all. While she didn't want to really think about life at the Hinata-sou without her best friend, Mitsune began to think that it was still preferable to no life at all.

--

--

In the secrecy of her room, Motoko stood staring out of the window at the dawning of a new day. On the horizon lay a hint of sun for what seemed to be the first time in months, and while the wind still disturbed the wood of the window panes it blew without the ferocity of days past.

The motionless figure watched the sky lighten with an air of anticipation, until some unseen signal seemed to spur her into action. Briskly Motoko untied the sash at her waist before slipping her scruffy, tea-stained gown from her shoulders, allowing it to form a puddle of silk on the ground as she carelessly stepped out of it. Not even wearing a smile, the young lady swept over to her wardrobe and threw it open before reaching inside. Withdrawing another silken garment, she regarded it approvingly with her olive eyes, before unfolding it and setting it carefully to one side. After rifling through her drawers for some plain underwear and donning the chosen set swiftly, Motoko returned her attention to the Kimono she had selected.

It was white, but not white like snow or paper, or even like a shirt from a washing powder commercial. It was the white of an angel's wings, a shade that shone with its own light, not merely reflect that which fell upon it. Running her fingers reverentially over the garment's surface, Motoko had to smile as they slid as if drawn across ice. It was special, something she had been granted upon coming of age, not clothing to be worn on any given day. In fact, she had kept it for one of two occasions.

One, the day of her ascension to school head, should it ever arrive.

Two, the day of her death.

As the woman known as Motoko Aoyama was to pass today, be it in a figurative or a literal sense, she felt it suited the occasion perfectly. As she picked it up the girl took a moment to marvel at how her pale, almost porcelain skin blended so well with the pure white silk. Her eyes narrowed to inspect the fine embroidery which textured its surface, elegant flowers depicted subtly in pearl-coloured thread, while her mind wandered over the possibilities she had never before considered. Drifted to one where she had chosen seppuku as her way out, to one where she had fallen so deeply into dishonour that merely swearing her soul to Keitaro had not been enough. The spilling of crimson upon pearl, the red flower blossoming across a field of white as her life flowed from her body. "Beautiful….." She breathed, gradually growing to understand why so many in the past had chosen to take the traditional path. It was horrendous, yes, but at the same time possessed a perverse beauty. Had Fuyuko, Motoko wondered, worn such a thing when she chose the path of redemption?

It almost, almost seemed like the righteous way forwards. Almost.

But it wasn't her path, and she would not consider it now. Hers lay among fields of academia and the world of the Hinata-sou, the home of her adoptive family. Alongside the man she respected and loved, even if she would never have the chance to tell him. This would be her path no matter what; her sister could remove her from the family register and name her ronin if she wished, even physically drag her back to her ancestral home and force her to teach.

She would not be tied down, never be forced to eternally abandon her present life for a life of incarceration and obligation. Her mind was made up.

Slipping into the kimono with barely a sound and tying the sash around her waist securely, Motoko swept her hair back to flow across her shoulders before assuming a kneeling position in the centre of her room, facing the closed door. And there she waited.

Waited for Tsuruko to arrive.

--

--

Well, that's all for chapter 21.

I had an interesting review from the last chapter which wondered whether I'd made my mind (re: the eventual ship) up before the fic started, and the answer is no. I wanted to follow the story and find out what would happen along the way, and had no firm choice in mind. It was when I decided against Shinobu (doing so broke my heart, btw) that I settled on Mutsumi, but for a long while Motoko and even Mitsune were being considered. I just love the big-hearted Okinawan more than any of the others (bar Shinobu) and hence the outcome.

Anyhow, chapter 22 is in production. Hope to see you again soon.

'Til next time.

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	22. Chapter 22

Time for Chapter 23.

After a little one-shot on a completely different note, I think it's time to get back to business. This has been a long, long ride and I feel it's one that should be finished completely. There will be 2 chapters after this one, plus an epilogue in all likelihood. So, those who have been going for so long, take heart that the end is in sight!

As usual this chapter took longer than I expected, but I hope it was worth the wait.

On with the show.

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Repercussions – Chapter 22

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It had been only moments since dawn summoned him from the world of slumber, yet for once the sight of an unfamiliar room did not rouse the normal surge of dread in Keitaro it had in the past. To awaken and not take in the sight of a ceiling occupied by a sizeable hole (or more recently a patch of mismatched woodwork) had always been enough to bring the man out in the coldest of sweats. He had only recently become accustomed to staring at the lounge as day broke before the scenery had changed once again.

The current sight was a plain white ceiling, only garnished by a light hanging from it – a light clothed in a blue lampshade. The view drew a contented smile from Keitaro, one that only grew in size at the sound of a body shifting in close proximity. Allowing his mahogany eyes to slide to the right the feeling of contentment swelled the instant they took in the slumbering figure nearby, one that shifted once again before settling and going back to what she'd been doing.

Snoring quietly.

For some reason it amused Keitaro no end, all of the tongue-in-cheek byplay he'd heard passed between Seta and Haruka now making perfect sense.

Although he was thankful Mutsumi didn't snore loudly as Seta claimed his aunt did.

Staring at the slumbering figure (and probably wearing an exceptionally goofy smile on his face) the young man let his mind drift back over the night before. It hadn't begun well, to be truthful, although he saw through Mutsumi's guilt like a glass window. It was usually he who had the guilty conscience after all, and he could recognise the same sentiment easily enough.

What followed…..

What followed Keitaro would rather not remember, but it wasn't entirely unexpected that Naru would fly off the handle at some point. The ferocity was down to the circumstances, and honestly he could see why the girl would be glowing with rage. On the other hand, Mutsumi had surprised him. He'd never imagined the Okinawan would say, or do what she did - but in all honesty she had as much right as Naru to be furious, probably more. And in the end, he'd sided with his new girlfriend over the old. What that meant to Naru was anybody's guess, but if there was one thing Keitaro was certain of it was that he'd made the right choice.

And what that choice had led to……Oh my. Quite a lot of 'oh my' in fact. Less 'oh my' than one of the 'pervert' brigade would have accused him of performing, but more than enough to make a certain violet-eyed chef to come over all faint. Although given the rate Shinobu was progressing at……

Ahem. In any case, if the old 'pervert' brigade had been privy to the activities of the previous night, even they would have been forced to admit he had not been the main…..aggressor.

Mutsumi had barely waited for him to get enter the room before seizing him in a lip-lock, a hold no professional wrestler would have been able to break. Somehow she'd managed to throw him on the bed without even the briefest disengagement, and just as he'd overcome his shock enough to reciprocate, he became prey for Mutsumi Otohime's dexterous fingers.

Some of what followed……Oh my.

Grinning like the village idiot who had just ridden through market bareback on a pig, Keitaro returned his attention to his slumbering girlfriend, who had again rolled over in bed. Tucking a loose strand of chocolate hair away from her face, Keitaro understood perhaps more than ever before that life could be good.

Yes, it was nice to awaken to an unfamiliar view sometimes. Although it was one he hoped to become more familiar with over time.

"Aaaaahhhhhhh……" Watching Mutsumi's sleepy eyes flicker open, accompanied by an almighty yawn, Keitaro made a mental amendment. To be completely familiar with this view might make it mundane – and hence stop it being something special.

He never wanted that to happen.

"Ohhhhhh, I'm stiff this morning." The girl sleepily intoned, clearly not quite all at home yet. This became even clearer as she sat up and stretched skywards, pyjamas joining her arms in their ascent and allowing her bedfellow to observe an impressive expanse of silken-skinned stomach. Tilting her head back the girl yawned again, this time so widely that had Tama-chan been passing she would be in danger of ingestion. Evidently satisfied with her stretching, the girl allowed a hand to drop to her lap. Where, to the eyebrow-elevated amusement of Keitaro, they found something that needed vigorous scratching on the very inner portion of her inner thigh. After several swift swipes of her fingernails, Mutsumi yawned again and fell lazily back onto her pillow, closing her eyes again as she did so.

For several seconds the only sounds were the muted noises of morning seeping through the window.

Then, someone farted.

Loudly.

"Ahhhhh, much better." Sitting up again and rubbing sleep out of her mahogany orbs, Mutsumi seemed to finally clock onto a very important fact.

She was not alone.

"Ara….." Fixed grin on her mouth, the Okinawan almost mechanically turned her head to see a very red-faced Keitaro in bed next to her. "Ah, umm, good morning Kei-kun."

Once again, the sound of silence. One that was broken by an explosion of a different kind.

Watching Keitaro roll around in hernia-inducing laughter beside her, Mutsumi felt her cheeks colour the faintest tint of red. All the same, she took the embarrassment with typical good grace. "Ara, if it amuses you that much Kei-kun I'll start every morning that way."

"No, no….." Waving a placating hand and waiting for his breath to return, the man managed to regain his wits. "It's not necessary, really."

"Oh? Shame. I must say I recommend it wholeheartedly, it's a great way to set yourself up for the day."

Crickets chirped.

"I'll bear that in mind." Keitaro grinned, before stretching himself and tilting his head back in his own version of Mutsumi's enormous yawn. The shifting of blankets and the sound of rapid movement beside him suggested his bedfellow didn't feel like waiting to see if he followed her advice to the letter. Quirking an eyebrow at her the girl adopted an expression of perfect innocence in response, gesturing to the glass of water she held in her hand before swallowing several mouthfuls.

"Morning is a thirsty time of day, don't you think?" Taking the remaining water offered to him Keitaro drained the glass, handing the empty receptacle back to the girl who placed it back on her dresser.

"Can't say you're wrong." Sitting up with blue blankets pooled around his waist, the ex-ronin realised he was half-naked in a lady's room, and the aforementioned lady was now taking a seat beside him on the bed. He was also pleased to realise he didn't give two hoots if someone walked in on them.

Freedom was sweet.

"Um, Kei?" Mutsumi's face was tinged with rose, her hands busily scooping streams of dark hair into her trademark style. "You know…..last night?"

"Yes?"

"Well…..I just want to make sure I remember everything right." Even Mutsumi Otohime couldn't hold onto her typical insouciance, breaking out in a full-on blush. "Did we…." Pausing and glancing around, the girl leaned in and muttered something inaudible into Keitaro's ear. Who smiled.

"Yeah." He replied, chuckling.

"And *whisperwhisper* too?"

"Oh yes."

"But we didn't *whisper*"

"No."

"Or…..*whisperwhisper*"

"Not quite."

"But we did…..*whisper?*"

"Did we ever!" Keitaro chuckled, his own face now an odd shade of crimson.

"……Oh my."

"Oh my is right." The man concluded, eyes alight.

"Whew." Mutsumi breathed, allowing herself to enjoy her memories over again. After a few seconds the girl eased out a cautious hand, one that landed upon her boyfriend's knee. "Kei….I know we pulled up before the final fence, so to speak….." Pausing to puzzle over her choice of words, the girl shook her head before pushing on. "All the same, it was my first time for any of that…..stuff. And I just want to say I'm glad it was with you….."

For a long moment Keitaro studied her face, squinting eyes bereft of their glasses drinking in each detail, tracing her expression of bashful delight and sketching the portrait into his memory.

"Same here exactly, Mutsumi-chan." He answered truthfully. It was also apparently the correct answer given the enormous glomp he received, accompanied by a rash of butterfly kisses showered liberally over his face.

"Ara, ara." Rolling off her captured prize, the girl threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood. "Fun as this is, I think we'd better get going. It's too nice a day too be spending all of it in bed." Keitaro privately disagreed, but thought better of saying so.

"Yeah." Shifting himself off the comfortable mattress, the Kanrinin stood and stretched once again. "I'd better go and help Shinobu with breakfast." Walking over to the door he poised to leave, before remembering an important fact. "Uhm, Mutsumi….."

"Yes, Kei?"

"I know times have changed and all, but….." Turning around, the man gestured at his slightly scrawny and battle-scarred torso. "I think strolling through the Hinata-sou to the laundry dressed in only shorts is still asking for trouble."

"Hmmmm." Turning back to her wardrobe, Mutsumi fell silent with her hand poised upon her chin, before digging into its depths. A few seconds later Keitaro instinctively caught a garment flung in his direction.

It was pink. With lace frills.

Keitaro had never seen Mutsumi wear anything like this, but supposed that it was inevitable she would have one tucked away somewhere. Glancing back at the Okinawan it appeared she was busy selecting her own clothes for the day, so the man sighed and began the task of deciphering what went where in his bundle of effeminate satin.

"Ah!" Turning around with a nondescript shirt in her grasp, Mutsumi put a palm to her mouth as she took in the sight of her boyfriend looking slightly uncomfortable in his, shall we say, unconventional outfit. "Ara, I didn't know you liked dress-up Kei-kun."

"Uh….." Sweatdrop forming, Keitaro looked on as the girl strolled over, clutching the shirt with a twinkle in her eye.

"Here you are, Kei. It took some finding." Expression innocent as ever she handed him the grey garment, Mutsumi smiled beatifically.

Keitaro wasn't fooled.

"Ara, what can I say? I just wanted to see you trying on my camisole." The girl chuckled behind her palm, face alight.

"So _this_ is a camisole….." Keitaro murmured, as if solving one of the riddles of life. For a long second the man examined the lacy hem with interest before realising what he was doing.

"You look _gorgeous_ darling." Mutsumi's comment had him stripping off the garment with all the haste he could muster. Exchanging it for the grey shirt he slipped it on, marvelling how well it fitted as he did so. So well in fact….

"This is my shirt." He stated, surprised.

"Yes, it is." The Okinawan agreed, rummaging once again, this time through her dresser drawers.

"How did you get my shirt?"

"I borrowed it. Without asking, but I doubted you'd mind." Came the reply, Mutsumi idly throwing something small and black onto the bed before moving onto her wardrobe once again.

"……Fair enough."

"I'm not the only one." Mutsumi continued, selecting a long green dress and laying it beside her already selected garments. "I think Su has a pair of your socks, and I'm sure Motoko has a shirt for herself. As for Shinobu…..I'd be surprised if any of the clothes in her cupboards are hers."

"Oh." Blinking slowly, Keitaro surveyed his shirt with puzzlement. "But why-"

"Kei, do you even have to ask the question?" Sighing quietly, the girl turned to face him. "You must know what you mean to everyone by now. Shinobu, the girl flung herself at your feet for goodness sake! Motoko only planted one on you the other day, and Mitsune tried to accost you in the hot springs! And as for yours truly -" Closing the distance between them quickly, the Okinawan planted a firm kiss on his lips. "- I hope you don't have the tiniest doubt over what you mean to me….."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Sorry."

"Ara, you have to stop agonising Kei." Mutsumi chided gently. "I know it's not easy, but you've got to forget the way things used to be. You've got me now, and I can think of others who would pay every yen they owned to be in my place."

"……Sorry." The man received a flick to the nose for his apology.

"I don't want to hear that any more either." Turning away, the pyjama-clad figure was caught unawares when a pair of firm arms wrapped around her from behind.

"Thanks Mutsumi." The words whispered barely millimetres from her ear sent shudders down the shapely woman's spine.

"You don't have to say it, Kei." She murmured in return, shifting in the embrace to face him and linking her own arms behind his back. "There's ways to thank me without using words."

For a long second the pair stared into one another's eyes, matching irises searching their partner's depths. As if heralding some unspoken cue, the couple leaned inwards and let their lips meet in a gentle caress. Sinking into the embrace Mutsumi and Keitaro simply held one another close as the laws of physics would allow for what may have been seconds or hours, revelling in the blissful contact only found when holding someone precious. Time, life, the world itself ceased to exist, the only truth the body of another pressed tightly against their own. The warmth of another soul, the smell of skin and hair, even the rhythmic swell of breathing overwhelming the senses and rendering reality irrelevant, even if for mere moments.

The sound of a door being knocked nearby called the pair back to the real world, where they reluctantly separated with matching blushes.

"I think I'll go and get dressed, then put the kettle on. Sound good?" Receiving agreement, the man swept a few stray strands of hair out of his eyes and made for the exit.

"Kei?" Pausing, the Kanrinin glanced over his shoulder.

"Yes?"

"I love you." Mutsumi said quietly, her usual smile warmer than ever.

"Love you too." Keitaro smiled back, before making his way to the laundry where his clothes awaited him. In the room he left behind, Mutsumi unhurriedly made her bed before stripping off her pyjamas and dressing for the day, humming a vague but cheery tune all the while.

Yes. Life could indeed be good.

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Motoko didn't have to wait long.

Two curt knocks echoed through the room, some time before the student had expected them – nine AM was still over five minutes away, and it was quite un-Tsuruko-like to arrive anything but on the hour. Unhurried all the same, the silk-gowned figure stared at her slim fingers for a few seconds before nodding firmly. It was time.

"Come in." At her call the door slid open, admitting her sister, herself clad in finest midnight-blue silk as if in recognition of the moment's importance. Tsuruko said nothing as she entered, merely turning and closing the door behind her before assuming the same posture as Motoko, resting easily on her knees and folding hands across them. Only then did she lay her steely olive gaze upon her adversary.

Who didn't even flinch.

"Good morning, Oneesan." She stated levelly, voice betraying nothing.

"Good morning to you also, Imoutochan." Tsuruko replied equally blandly. "And if I may say so, it is a fine morning indeed. It does the soul and the complexion good to see the sun once in a while."

"I agree. Now the inevitable greetings have come and gone, may we dispense with the banalities and address the matter at hand?" Motoko said, pleased to see her sister twitch in annoyance. Having been the unwilling fish caught on the end of Tsuruko's hook more than enough times, the ronin-to-be took no little enjoyment from the shift in the balance of power.

"Although the way in which you have made your point was crass, I cannot deny you are correct. Let us move on to business." Setting her right hand on her Katana the elder Aoyama drew the blade, folded steel emitting a threatening whisper as it slid smoothly from its sheath, before placing it flat upon the floor before her. "Motoko-san, after some consideration I am still of the opinion that you should take your place at the head of the family, and continue the school. It is the decree passed on by the school itself, a decree you are obligated to fulfil in order to retain the name Aoyama."

Ending her statement, Tsuruko observed her sister to ascertain the effect her words were having. It surprised her more than a little to find her thinly veiled threat made not an ounce of difference to Motoko's calm countenance. Deciding to push a little further, Tsuruko leaned forwards a fraction and continued in a confidential tone. "If you do not accept the position that is yours to inherit, I cannot say what the outcome will be. But you can be assured that it will not be beneficial to your future……"

Motoko blinked once, then spoke.

"Are you finished?"

It was Tsuruko's turn to blink.

"Pardon?"

"I said; are you finished?" Motoko repeated, looking disdainful. "Any further threats you wish to make, or possibly you would like to use bare steel in an attempt to force me into submission?" She added, nodding to the unsheathed katana interposed between them.

"I merely wish to re-iterate the potential impact of an unwise decision. To remind you of the ongoing consequences……" Tsuruko tailed off as the dark face regarding her merely grew darker.

"You have my decision, Oneesan. You have been in possession of it for some time now, yet you continue to claim that my mind may be changed." Leaning forwards herself, the white-clad figure glared at her older sister. "What interests me far more is why you are so very insistent that I assume your role, Tsuruko-san. So far as I can see, you stand to gain nothing through my ascension, and have much to lose. I would go so far as to say you _want_ to retire from your position…..?"

Anyone else would have missed it. But it was there, the reaction Motoko was searching for. The tiniest dilation of her sister's pupils, the merest hitch in her breathing.

"That is not an issue. It is not a matter of desire, purely of tradition." The retort was well delivered, both disinterested and dismissive, but already rendered useless.

"I disagree, Oneesan. I feel it to be very much the issue. As I have stated before, you are the head of the school, and can do as you see fit. So, I ask again. Why do you wish to retire?"

"I do not…."

"Stop it Oneesan!" Motoko cried, sweeping a white robed arm in a vicious cutting gesture. "I see through your denials as through the mist on an autumn dawn. They will hold no weight with me any longer, for no longer do I treat your words as gospel. You will tell me why, else our discussion ends here and now." She ended coldly, eyeing her older sister with a hawkish gaze that the recipient would have been rightfully proud of.

"My reasons are my own. I have adjudged you to be the rightful heir, and there will be no change in my decision. Either you renounce your name and become ronin, or come with me. The choice is simple, Motoko-san." Tsuruko stated, resolutely standing her ground.

"In that case, my dear elder, may I reveal to you what my first act would be were I installed unwillingly as house matriarch?" Without waiting for an answer, Motoko pressed onwards. "It would be to name a new heir. An heir who would be forced to take over the name as soon as he or she came into being. An heir who would share the same fate as I, bound to it as a chain around the ankle."

Tsuruko's eyes widened.

"Imoutosan, surely you don't mean….."

"I do, Oneesan." Face stony, the white-clad figure jabbed an elegant finger at her sister's swollen abdomen. "Your unborn child will inherit the school the moment it draws its first breath in this world. Of course, to force an infant to lead the school would be a fool's decision, so I would have to appoint someone as head by proxy until the time he or she was of age….."

A long, long silence fell between the pair, one tense and bitter as any either could remember.

"Motoko-san, I….I cannot say if I am impressed or disgusted." Tsuruko eventually murmured, an undeniable catch in her voice. "I must admit I wished to test your resolve, and I cannot deny its strength or indeed its ruthlessness."

The silence this time was shorter, within which was an almost audible snap as the tension was suddenly released.

"W-wha?!" Motoko stared at her sister, dumbstruck.

"Imoutochan, I did not wish you to make a mistake you would regret from now until the day you move onto the next great adventure. It was not my intention for our conversation to become quite so heated, but….." Tsuruko sighed, resting her palms flat atop the lump that was her unborn child. "I cannot deny that I desired otherwise, that you would change your mind now dreams of romance no longer hold you to this place. But clearly, your mind is indeed made up."

"Oneesan….." The white-gowned figure breathed, watching her sister's face grow more reflective than perhaps ever before. "Did…..did you know? I mean, about Keitaro and……Mutsumi?" The words still ached and stung as they emerged, but she said them anyway, waiting keenly for a response.

She got it in the form of a nod.

"Not before my arrival, I must add. I do not believe Keitaro himself knew at that point, although I sensed that subconsciously his mind was made up. But soon as I assessed the situation, it became clear to me that destiny had already made her choice and was merely waiting for the protagonists to catch up."

"Couldn't you….." Feeling her throat constrict, the younger sister was relieved when Tsuruko got the message without words.

"Yes, possibly I could have. But tell me Imoutochan, would it have made the truth easier to digest? Would you have perhaps chosen to disbelieve my word, either through hope or doubts over my motive?" Tsuruko's sculpted features softened as her sister allowed her head to drop in submission. "I surmised as much. It was a fact that you had to witness in order to accept."

"I…..I don't know that I have accepted it yet, Oneesan." Motoko murmured, olive eyes closing against the oncoming tide.

"Then why such certainty, Motoko-chan? Perhaps as the truth takes root within you may find you desire a different path….." Minutes ago, the question would have drawn at least a parry if not a counter-attack from the younger sister. As it was the girl could barely raise her head enough to look at her elder.

"Because I have given it much thought." Gazing around her room, Motoko took in the familiar surroundings, as if suddenly aware of subtle changes that had taken place below notice. Bookcases unchanged in appearance, yet their contents vastly different – intellectual and factual books replacing texts on the art. Her wardrobe now populated with comfortable kimonos and everyday apparel alongside training and formal wear. Even the suit of armour which once took pride of place was now nudged away to one side, a large portrait of the Hinata-sou and her residents hanging in its stead.

Returning her focus to her sister, the younger Aoyama swept her arm in a grand gesture, indicating the whole of her abode. "I have changed Oneesan. No longer am I the blinkered anger-driven individual I once was. Yes, you sent me here to learn life as it really was beyond the encapsulating walls of the family house. Well I must apologise Oneesan, as your fine intellect has conspired against you on this occasion. Your plan worked far too well, I have grown to love the 'real world' as you put it, and wish to be a part of it in the future."

"Imoutochan….." Tsuruko was silenced by a firm hand.

"Please Oneesan, let me finish." Taking a deep breath and another look around her room, Motoko sighed and shook her head. "I do not see a future in the Martial Arts, only emptiness. Conversely I have come to enjoy my studies, and would wish to pursue a future in academia, possibly in the field of law as it is an area in which I feel I could fulfil my potential. It would only be correct to become a defender of right, given how many sins I have still to atone for. I again have you to thank for that Oneesan, and could thank you from now until the setting of the sun yet still feel myself obligated to you. Also….." The girl managed the ghost of a smile as the picture sat upon the wall swam into her mind's eye, faintly mirroring those worn by its occupants. "They have become my family, those that live here. They were there when I felt cast aside in the beginning, and made me who I am. We have been through so much – I could not consider leaving them at this point in our lives, especially given the fact we may lose one of our number soon. As for…..Keitaro….."

"Motoko-chan, you need not continue, you have more than proven your desire to stay." Tsuruko said quietly, reaching out a hand to cover those which trembled in her sister's lap.

"No, I must….." Biting her lip and appreciating the soothing pain the already wounded flesh emitted, Motoko shook her raven-tressed head. "Keitaro…..I would stay at his side through come what may. On many an occasion has he attempted to release me from my servitude, only to be assured it is not necessary. I feel he has come to understand I have no desire to be released as I would not be set free, only cast adrift. And I love him-" The young lady broke off, swallowing frantically as shaking fingers found her cheeks and dashed them clean. "I-I love him, even if he were to love another, even though I may never tell him as such. Love him enough that his love will forever come before my own….." A tiny 'sniff' punctuated the air, one the distraught girl didn't recognise as hers. Glancing up through glazed eyes, Motoko felt herself freeze at the sight of her sister regarding her with her own tears running unchecked down her face.

Something fragile in the young student trembled, fell, and shattered.

"Oneechan!" Reaching out Tsuruko found herself receiving an armful of Motoko, an armful that buried her face into her older sister's chest and wept desperately. Settling into a more comfortable position and allowing a single hand to run its way through her sister's coal-black hair, Tsuruko felt a moment of shame at her own weakness - shame she crushed ruthlessly, disgusted at its very appearance. Yes she was a warrior, but she was a sister and mother-to-be also. There should be no shame in sharing grief with another, especially between sisters.

For the first time, the elder Aoyama began to understand her sister's determination to not to follow in her footsteps.

"Oh, I apologise Oneechan….." Motoko choked, face flushed as she drew away. Shaking her head, Tsuruko brushed her cheeks clean with a genuine smile.

"There is nothing to apologise for, Imoutochan." Glancing down at the midnight blue silk she wore, her smile became wry as she surveyed the damp patches adorning its front. "Other than for ruining my clothes, that is."

"Ah, uhm –" For a long moment, her younger sister looked a lot more Shinobu than Motoko. Stifling a laugh, Tsuruko's expression grew distant for the briefest moment before she regained her focus, face serious.

"Do not worry about it, Imoutochan. I daresay you feel better?"

"Perhaps a little." Motoko replied, coughing to clear her throat. "But there is much I would like to know, Oneesan."

"Such as?" Tsuruko asked, tone suddenly clipped and short.

"Well, why you felt compelled to pass on the title to the point of desperation for one….." Gazing at her older sister, Motoko felt herself frown. The woman suddenly seemed distracted, pensive. "Oneesan, are you alright?"

"Yes. Well, nothing is wrong in truth, but….." Standing quickly and with less grace than was typical of her, Tsuruko's olive eyes gazed into the middle distance somewhere over Motoko's left shoulder. "Different, possibly. How so…..Oh, already?" Growing concerned at the mutterings, Motoko stood herself and gave her sister's shoulder a tiny shake.

"What is it?" The girl understood what the moment Tsuruko returned to the present, slightly wide-eyed.

"Motoko-san, I would be happy to answer your questions. That is if you would be ready to travel in, oh, fifteen minutes?" Glancing down at the lump bulging from her sister's abdomen, the would-be ronin emitted an audible 'gulp'.

"You mean it's……starting?"

"Well not in the physical sense, but I sense my body preparing as we speak." Placing a palm atop the swelling, the young woman closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. "I believe that if we leave with haste, I will comfortably make it back to my home before proceedings pass beyond the point of no return." Opening her eyes again, Tsuruko scooped her katana from its resting place and re-sheathed it at her hip before addressing her sister with forced calm. "Imoutochan, I have rarely asked anything of you. But now I would request that you accompany me back to the family home, to ensure my safety and to be present for the birth of your niece. Would you accede?"

Looking deep into her sister's face, Motoko could see the faintest stirrings of an emotion she had never known her to possess.

Fear.

"I will be ready in five minutes. Please, retire to the lobby and ask for Keitaro, he will arrange our passage and fetch your bags." She ordered, gently placing a palm to Tsuruko's back and guiding her to the doorway before opening it. "Oh, and Oneechan……"

"Yes?"

"Niece?" At Motoko's slightly high-pitched question, the mother-to-be dropped her eyes with a demure smile.

"Ah, shame. It was intended to be a surprise." With that she turned and unhurriedly paced towards the stairwell without a backwards look.

Motoko didn't realise she was staring after her open-mouthed until the figure had strolled around the corner and out of sight. Suddenly acutely aware of the passing of time, the slim girl had the wardrobe open and a suitcase out before human eyesight was able to catch up. Unzipping the travel case she paused, blinking as if a penny had suddenly dropped, mouth moving suddenly and almost soundlessly as if working of its own accord. In the silence of the room, it might have been possible to hear the words almost unknowingly spoken.

"_Aunt Motoko….._"

A second later the room was a hive of activity once again, although now had one been able to slow the girl's movements down to a visible speed it wouldn't have been difficult to notice the tiny smile which graced Motoko's face.

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Credit had to be given to Keitaro and Mutsumi. Within thirty seconds of Tsuruko's arrival in the kitchen the mother-to-be had a cup of tea complete with biscuits, a taxi on the way and the Hinata-sou's Kanrinin had already vanished up the stairs to pack her bags. Tsuruko didn't know quite what to make of this – far as she was concerned packing and carrying her clothes was anything but beyond her, but for once in her life she decided to allow herself to be treated like the china doll everyone seemed to think she'd become, if only to make everyone else feel that little bit better.

In all honesty, it was quite nice.

Besides, Tsuruko could sit at the table drinking tea and appear completely calm about the whole ordeal. On the other hand Keitaro would be utterly incapable of doing the same thing, so it made sense to give the Kanrinin something to do to avoid the pacing and flapping that would inevitably result.

Of course the sound of hurried motion through the hallways of the Hinata-sou attracted attention, and by the time a panting Keitaro had appeared back in the lobby lugging Tsuruko's case the room was somewhat busier than when she'd arrived. Sara and Su were sawing their way through a mound of re-heated rice and jabbering excitedly, while a bleary-eyed Shinobu nursed a steaming cup of something hot and watched proceedings with sleepy detachment.

"Where's Motoko?" He asked, nudging his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

"She has gone to the foot of the stairs to await our transport. She will not be long." Tsuruko answered serenely, dipping a biscuit into her drink before biting a sizeable chunk out of it. "As a matter of fact….." The front door opened, but not for the younger Aoyama.

"What's going on?" Naru asked the room at large, unwinding her scarf and shedding her red winter coat before hanging them both up in their assigned places. "I ran into Motoko half-way up, but she just said she was in a hurry."

"She is hurrying on my behalf." Tsuruko replied, wearing a half-smile.

"Oh, I see…."

"Yes. It appears my daughter wishes to enter the world a little early. Well, it must be admitted that patience has not always been a trait possessed by the Aoyama family….." The pregnant woman added wryly, patting her abdomen.

"It has arrived, Oneesan." Called Motoko, swiftly striding through the already open door and scooping up the weighty bags with consummate ease. "A train leaves in half an hour from now, should we make haste we will catch it with ease."

"Very well." Easing herself up and placing the empty cup carefully upon its saucer, Tsuruko carefully dabbed her mouth dry with a tissue before turning to face the residents. "I apologise for the suddenness of my departure, but I thank you all for your hospitality during my stay."

"It's no problem Tsuruko-san, we've been glad to have you." Mutsumi replied, to a chorus of nods and agreement.

"Will it…you be okay?" Shinobu asked quietly, eyes fixed on the swell of Tsuruko's stomach.

"I see no reason why not, but I appreciate your concern." Tsuruko replied, certainty clear in her voice. "I expect that I will be visiting with another guest at some time in the near future, so I would appreciate it if you would keep a room spare for that eventuality."

"Okay."

"Oneesan….." Glancing at Motoko's impatient frown, the elder sister nodded and moved to join her at the door.

"I will now take my leave. Farewell."

"Tsuruko-san." Pausing with one foot outside, the woman looked back into the room, and more specifically at Keitaro.

"Yes?"

"Thanks." Observing the half-bow the Kanrinin took and the hand intertwined with that of the girl stood beside him, Tsuruko shook her head with the tiniest hint of sadness in her smile.

"It is not necessary, Keitaro-san. All I ask of you is to take good care your tenants for me, and one of them in particular." With that she turned and swept outside, leaving a chorus of well-wishing voices in her wake.

"Well….." Motoko faltered, staring around the assembled faces as if unsure what to say. Eventually her gaze settled on the linked hands in the centre of the room, before tracing up to their owners. "…..I will return. Stay well." In the blink of an eye the younger Aoyama was also gone, the door closing behind her with quiet finality. For a short eternity the remaining residents sat in silence, staring after the departed sisters.

"I hope Tsuruko will be okay." Shinobu eventually murmured, staring into her half-empty cup as if reading the tea leaves in its depths for the answer.

"I'm sure they will be." Naru answered instinctively.

"Mmmmm." Sara grunted in agreement, mouth still full of breakfast.

"O'course! Motoko's gonna be a shiny new aunt!" Hopping up onto the table, Su grabbed the rice bowl from its centre and cradled it as if it were an infant. "An' I can't wait ta play with the baby! Whooooo!" She cheered, tossing the bowl in the air so it almost grazed the ceiling before catching it and setting off around the room in some sort of celebratory dance, performing gymnastic feats to leave Olympians open-mouthed while somehow never spilling a single grain of rice.

The other residents watched her with matching sweatdrops.

"Ara, perhaps we should keep her a safe distance from the baby when she comes to visit. Perhaps twenty feet?" Watching Su flip into a handstand while cradling the bowl between her bare feet, Keitaro glanced at Mutsumi and shook his head.

"Forty. At least forty."

"Wheeee!" With a final flourish the little Molmolian somersaulted into her seat, the rice bowl landing with barely a clatter in its usual place in the very same moment. Grinning at the assembled company Su went back to her breakfast with typical gusto, earning a glare from Sara who had been at the point of catching her in their morning breakfast eat-off. Something, unsurprisingly, the younger girl had never managed to win.

"Well, I'm going back to bed." Shinobu nudged her empty cup away from her, standing tiredly. "You're going to have to wash your own cups this morning; I haven't finished inspecting my eyelids yet." Watching the teen slope off to the stairs a concerned frown grew on Keitaro's face, one eased by a squeeze of his hand.

"Give her time, Kei." Mutsumi muttered, her own eyes tracking the disconsolate figure. "She'll come around. First loves are always the hardest to get over; heaven knows we've both had to try."

"Yeah." The man muttered back.

"Sweet, all done! Victory to the nation of Molmol once again!" Su chirped as the last mouthful of breakfast was consumed, seemingly ignorant of the death glare the green-faced Sara was giving her. "I'm gonna go work on me newest creation, see yas at lunch!"

"I'm gonna go see papa…..ah damn, he'll be at work….." Sara's comment drew alarmed glances between Mutsumi and Keitaro.

"Uh, what day of the week is it?" Keitaro asked, surprised to realise he didn't honestly know.

"Tuesday, dumbass." The slightly snide reply.

"Oh. So Seta-"

"Has gone to Tokyo-U. What, d'ya think the rest of the world has stopped?" Sara snorted, getting up from the table. "Well, whatever. I've got an appointment with my TV. Can't wait to see how that dope in the hat gets his ass handed to him today….."

"It's okay Keitaro-san." Naru's meek voice piped up, the honey-eyed girl staring at the floor. "I've explained what's going on to my tutor; she'll let the faculty know."

"Thanks Naru-san." Keitaro replied, before the remaining trio lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. One Naru eventually drew up the courage to break.

"Ummm, I think we should – I mean I've got something to say. Well, quite a lot to say….."

"Ara, you're not alone there." Mutsumi interjected calmly, but with the hint of a smile. One that allowed her adversary's tense shoulders to relax, and her held breath to escape.

"Yeah, well…..shall we re-locate? It's a little bit public here." The bespectacled girl gestured at the open lounge, her point obvious.

"Kitchen? I'll do the honours?" At the sound of unanimous approval, Keitaro led the way through the half-open door.

Time to put the kettle on.

Again.

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Time seemed to pass so slowly on a hospital ward. Minutes took an hour to pass, and as for days…..

Mitsune was coming to understand that, sick as she was, she was even sicker of being stuck in a bed in a large room with five strangers, two of whom had questionable control of their faculties. She was sick of the scent of bleach, of the cheerful but obviously strained nurses, of the 'food'. Although they offered meal choices each day, the actual option seemed to boil down to either a plate of 'white' or a plate of 'brown'.

She hadn't been brave enough to try the brown yet.

Mitsune was sick of crosswords, sick of thermometers, sick of being sick.

She was even sick of the rather attractive (and obviously well-off) consultant doctor, who would undoubtedly have received the full focus of her womanly charms if she could have remembered where she'd left them. So fed up was she that the sight of visitors bearing gifts brought tears to the girl's eyes, even if the visitors in their latest news round-up only served to confirm what she'd feared since that very morning.

"So Naru's really movin' out." The fox mused, resting back in her bed.

"Yeah. She told us this morning. Pretty brave of her, considering everything." Keitaro replied honestly.

"Her track record ain't the best. Nah, I reckon Naru's finally realisin' that runnin' blind don't do nothin' but delay the inevitable." Mitsune sighed, studying her well bitten nails. "Took yours truly long enough ta realise as well, so I 'spose I shouldn't judge. Tell ya one thing; it ain't gonna be the same 'round that ol' place without her."

The pause which followed spoke volumes.

"Anyhow, I hear y'all officially an item now?" Mitsune's subject change was well received, and greeted with obvious joy from the pair sat beside her.

"Ara, it's been a long time coming. Too long." Mutsumi said, her usual cheery tone spiced with an extra pinch of vibrancy. Watching the Okinawan move that little closer to Keitaro, closer than he'd ever been comfortable with before, Mitsune let the last remaining shreds of jealousy drift away on the breeze. Yes she liked the man, and yes her grey eyes would be tinged with the green of envy for a while. But Mutsumi and Keitaro…..just fitted together like a two-piece jigsaw now. She would never be that close, never need the man the same way Mutsumi did. Equally, she unconsciously understood that she could never be what Keitaro needed.

Suddenly Mitsune realised Naru was right to move out. Just watching the happy couple interact the fox could feel a tiny pinprick of regret – in comparison Naru must feel like she was being encased in the iron maiden with every moment of affection to which she bore witness.

"I'm glad for ya, Mutsumi-chan, Kei-kun." Waving a pale hand at the pair, Mitsune grinned with a hint of her old feral style. "I can see yah are right for each other. 'Sides, it's 'bout time mah Kanrinin got some, ne?"

It was a guess, an educated one mind you, but still a guess. The moment Keitaro choked on the water he was sipping and Mutsumi let out a gentle laugh, the fox knew her instincts were right on the money. "Oh really? Hope y'all kept the noise down, we got minors livin' under that roof y'know."

While patting a coughing Keitaro on the back, Mutsumi smiled honestly at the grey-haired girl. "Oh of course, it wouldn't do to keep everyone else awake all night, after all."

"All night?" Raising an eyebrow at the recovering Kanrinin, Mitsune smirked coyly. "Why Kei-kun, you sly dog. Truth be told, after seein' you run for yer life so many times, I kinda guessed ya had stamina."

While she didn't think it was humanly possible to turn any redder than Keitaro already was, she was proven very wrong.

"Ara, I must say Kei is very fit indeed. He has more than enough energy to wear me out. Several times." Mutsumi added gaily, apparently finding nothing wrong with discussing the subject on a busy hospital ward.

"Uh, Mutsumi, you're not exactly helping….." Keitaro was suddenly the recipient of a dazzlingly innocent smile.

"Helping what?"

"…….Never mind." Chuckling at the man's discomfort, Mitsune wondered how long it had been since the last time she'd genuinely laughed. Far too long ago, whenever it was.

"Ah, c'mon Kei-kun. Gotta allow girls ta talk."

"That's fine, but would you do it when I'm not around next time?" The Kanrinin pleaded, noting that a couple of others in the ward had gotten wind of the conversation and were giving him either amused or appraising glances. Being the only male in the area didn't help matters either.

"Can't promise anythin'….." Deciding to let the man off the hook, Mitsune went back to the other matter in hand. "So, did Naru say when she'd be leaving?"

"No, but I doubt it'll be long." Mutsumi put her hand to her chin, posed in thought. "She said within a few weeks, and I think it'll be 'the sooner the better' in her eyes."

"Yeah, kinda guessed that bit. Ah'd better be outta here before then, since I ain't lettin' her go without bein' there to see the silly gal off." The girl stated firmly, arms folded.

"I doubt you'll be here too much longer." Keitaro chipped in with a smile.

"Yeah, I plan on bein' home by the weekend. No way I'm hangin' 'round here past Friday. Ya can tell Seta ta have the van ready an' waitin' on the corner." The fox half-joked, although her visitors secretly doubted she was anything but serious.

"I'll bear that in mind. Anyway, I think Su and Shinobu want to come in and say hello, so we'll take our leave." Glancing up at the clock, Keitaro reached out and patted Mitsune's knee tenderly. "You get well soon, okay? Your room will be ready and waiting, and the Hinata-sou wants its fox back."

Suddenly Mitsune found herself unable to speak.

"Oh come on, no need for that Mitsune-chan." Mutsumi murmured, wrapping her slender arms around her friend.

"Thanks….." The grey-haired girl croaked out, welcoming the feeling of another hand rubbing her back.

"Any time." Keitaro confirmed, stepping back. "Well, I think our time's up. See you later, Mitsune-chan."

"Goodbye!" Mutsumi added, a cheery wave punctuating their departure.

Mitsune watched them go with a tiny smile, one that widened further at the sight of Shinobu and Su a few moments later, the former carrying something that looked suspiciously like a cake of some sort on a covered dish. She sincerely hoped it was, and if it involved chocolate all the better.

That was something else she had gone far too long without.

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Much of the train journey had been passed in relative silence. The raven-haired pair had watched scenery change from urban to suburban to rural and then back again for hours, one of them seemingly unconcerned by the passage of time and the other nerve-shreddingly alert to every single movement her sister made. Soon after making their last change of train Tsuruko had suddenly excused herself to the bathroom, where she had been for several anxious minutes until she had returned with an air of laconic calm that was just a little too well controlled.

Motoko was deeply thankful they were only minutes from their destination, especially when she felt Tsuruko twitch beside her with the tiniest gasp.

"Oneesan?"

"It is nothing to worry about Imoutochan. Merely the first of many." At her older sister's words, Motoko's olive eyes grew wide.

"You mean….."

"Yes. But please do not be fretful, Motoko-chan. We will arrive home in good time." At the questioning look she received, Tsuruko shrugged gently. "My body is merely beginning the process, I know and understand its ways well enough to be confident of this fact."

"I wish I shared the same certainty as you, Oneechan." The younger girl grumbled, wishing the train would move that little bit faster.

"Try to take your mind off it. It is essentially my problem, and you need not worry yourself unduly."

"Well, if I need a distraction……" Gazing down into her lap briefly, Motoko took a deep breath and looked up into her sister's face. "…..I still wonder why you wish to abstain from your position?"

"Yes. Yes, I did promise to answer your questions." Breaking eye contact, Tsuruko stared out into the countryside blurring past the window before sighing deeply. "Well, Imoutochan, I will fulfil my pledge. But while my reasons may appear far from earth-shaking, please hear me out before you pass judgement……"

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Tsuruko's reasons? Well, they're quite simple really.

Problem is it might take more than a month for anyone to find out......I'll endeavour to push on with the next chapter ASAP.

'Til next time.

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	23. Chapter 23

Long overdue, Chapter 23.

I imagine this is the penultimate chapter, so you don't have to put up with many more aimless author ramblings. This time I just want to give my thanks to all those that reviewed, and have followed this tale all the way to this point.

On with the show.

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Repercussions – Chapter 23

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Motoko blinked in puzzlement, surprised by such a simple statement. Eventually she spoke, although not to do anything more than reflect the words she had heard.

"To be a mother?"

"Yes. It is quite simple, really." Tsuruko agreed, inclining her head.

"B-but I thought that it was something you would become by default?" Chuckling gently at Motoko's misunderstanding, the elder Aoyama tried to explain.

"Well, yes, in a technical sense. But there is much more to it than that, Imoutochan." Judging by her sister's frown, she still failed to understand.

"I fail to see how this drives you to threaten me with banishment." Motoko growled faintly, annoyed.

"Motoko-san….." Seeing the clouds gathering on the other girl's expression, Tsuruko sighed. "Look, it is far from remarkable to give birth to a child. But for me…..it is the time after my daughter is born that the work really starts. There is so much potential in every life, and as a parent I have the chance to nurture that potential. You clearly have no conception of how much time and effort that may take, Imoutosan."

"What, things like teaching her how to read and write?" Motoko softly snorted. "I believe that's what tutors are for, Oneesan……" The girl faded out as her sister's expression grew arctic.

"You amaze me, Imoutosan. To think you would see life in such simple terms, after claiming to live in 'the real world' as you put it." Tsuruko's voice gradually lost its chill, growing more reflective as her face turned to stare at the trees blurring past the window opposite. "I'm sure you know people are not created as if by recipe. You cannot simply put in an ounce of education, a teaspoon of manners and a pinch of experience and bake until fully raised."

"I understand that." Glancing at the distant look in her sister's eyes, Motoko frowned again. "But I still fail to see….."

"Do you have any idea how many responsibilities the head of the house has, Motoko-san?" Taking silence as a no, Tsuruko continued in the same faraway tone. "Enough to take up almost every waking moment one possesses. Taking a few days break alone is enough to ensure mountains of extra work upon my return. The way things are, I would barely be able to see my child between the endless meetings, training sessions and other duties that fall upon my plate. I want the chance to take care of my daughter, to really be her _mother_."

Something about the way she said the last sentence finally got through to Motoko.

"I am trying to understand, Oneesan. But I still cannot see why it means so much to you….."

"Perhaps you cannot. Perhaps you must yourself be on the precipice of parenthood, staring into the abyss itself, before understanding begins." Shaking her head gently, Tsuruko closed her eyes. "Maybe it is only I who feel this way, although from what our own mother has told me, I doubt it. The endless possibilities, and the fear….."

"Fear?" Echoed Motoko, puzzled. She had never heard her sister use the word with reference to herself, and in her heart of hearts the admission from someone seemingly impervious to such weak emotions caused a tingle to dance through her own nerve endings.

"Yes. A million and one questions I can't possibly answer. Will she be healthy? Will I raise her correctly? Will I be a good mother to her? Will she, after all is said and done, be proud to be my daughter?"

Watching Tsuruko open her olive eyes and stare blindly through the window the younger Aoyama silently wondered if her sister had changed or if the layer of vulnerability had always been there, carefully hidden from view. Knowing what Tsuruko needed to hear, she reached out an elegant hand and placed it on the pregnant woman's arm. "Oneesan, I can promise you your child will be proud of you. Of that I have no doubt." For her words she received a smile, small but genuine.

"Thank you Imoutochan. I am glad your faith in me exceeds my own."

"Perhaps you do not give yourself the credit you are due." Motoko retorted.

"Perhaps." Shifting slightly with a visible twinge of discomfort, the elder sister shrugged. "I have always striven for perfection, Motoko-chan. Be it in the way of the sword or as head of house, I have given it all I could. And, without being arrogant, I have often achieved what others could not. But this challenge that faces me now….it is the one I wish to conquer above all others, the one that matters more to me than any I have thus far come across. Yet it is the one that possesses the most complexity, the most unknowns. And how to judge what is correct? No manual exists, no scoring system which awards marks or provides proven guidelines. It is purely and simply trial and error……and I do not wish to err too far or too often. Not for myself, but for her……to allow her to reach her full potential, and be the best person she can be….." The pregnant woman broke off, emitting a harsh bark of humourless laughter. "Hah, look at me now. Tsuruko Aoyama, head of the Shinmei-Ryu, rambling on like an old maid who's lost her marbles……"

"……" Ignoring her sister's self depreciating comment, Motoko mulled over her words carefully. Eventually coming to a conclusion, she turned to her travelling partner and cleared her throat. "Oneesan, permission to speak honestly?"

"I do not believe you have ever needed me to grant it, but go ahead."

"Well….." Taking a deep breath and her resolve, the young student ploughed on. "I think you're complicating things too much."

"Oh?" Quirking her head into a tilt, the older sister regarded Motoko with interested eyes. "Pray tell how, Imoutochan?"

"I think you've got it the wrong way around, put the most important thing last. Excepting good health of course." Shaking her head, the girl decided to get to the point. "What I mean is…..if your daughter is proud to call you mother, surely it means you're acting in the correct manner. I – I've always looked up to you Oneesan, and tried to follow your example. I feel I have often been found wanting, something I attribute to my own shortcomings rather than impossible goals. But at the end of it all, I am and always will be proud to call you my Oneesan. You have my respect, my admiration, my love, purely by being the woman you are. I have not the tiniest doubt that your child, and any others that may follow, will feel the exact same way."

For a long few seconds, the silence was deafening.

Then a short laugh, this one genuine, tore through it.

"And here was I, making suggestions of naiveté." Brushing what may have been a tear from the corner of an eye, Tsuruko slipped an arm around her younger sister. "Motoko-san, I feel it is you who do not provide yourself with enough credit."

With a non-committal noise (but secretly delighted) Motoko went back to studying the surrounding countryside, which seemed to be slightly less of a blur than a few minutes before. Moments later something else crept into her head, something that drew a frown to her face. "Oneesan?"

"Yes?"

"One thing still puzzles me. Why the huge façade? The threats, the endless pushing for me to take up the mantle of school leader without simply telling me your real reasons?"

"Oh. Ah, yes." As she cleared her throat hesitantly, Tsuruko appeared almost embarrassed. "Well, part of it was to test your resolve, your desire. I will admit that I was caught in the moment on more than one occasion, and perhaps pushed harder and further than I had ever intended. But in truth…..I didn't want to admit to my own selfishness, my weakness."

"Oneesan…." Holding up a hand to stall her sister, Tsuruko shook her head slowly.

"No, it is the truth. I cast you as the guilty party, while concealing the fact that I merely wished to abandon my duties. For that I apologise, Imoutosan. But I apologise all the more for allowing pride to take control of my actions, and placing my own reputation above your happiness." She finished, making as formal a bow as one can manage whilst seated, all the while awaiting a furious response.

For some time Motoko stared into the middle distance, rolling the facts over in her head. Much to her surprise the anger within never reached boiling point, or even anywhere near lukewarm. In all honesty, she could understand her sister's actions – she'd have done exactly the same were the situations reversed, and it wasn't as if she hadn't stooped to deception herself in the past in an attempt to avoid her unwanted fate. Such as the time she had pretended to marry Keitaro…..pushing the memory firmly away, the girl realised Tsuruko was waiting for an answer.

"Oneesan, you have nothing to apologise for." She eventually murmured, favouring her sister with a smile. "My only wish would be a simple solution to this mess."

"There is." Tsuruko stated.

"Oh?" Motoko replied, eyebrows raised.

"Yes." The elder sister rested back, a gentle sigh escaping her mouth as it set in a firm line. "I hand my child to our mother, and get on with the responsibility entrusted to me." The grimace that passed across her face might have been due to a contraction, but then again it might not. "With a little luck I may see her each evening for a short while….."

"Oneesan, you can't mean that." Motoko gasped. "After all you've said….." In response Tsuruko shrugged, expression resigned.

"Sacrifices must be made in life."

The silence which followed was broken by an electronic voice announcing that the train was arriving at its destination, prompting a thoughtful Motoko to gather their bags together.

While the younger Aoyama still couldn't face the thought of taking over the Shinmei-ryu, the girl started to wonder how she could help her sister find a little of the freedom she so deeply desired.

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Naru carefully rested her back against the wall, and stared out into the blue sky shining through the window opposite with a little more optimism than before. It had been hard, but it seemed she'd made her peace with Keitaro and Mutsumi in the end. Apologising to someone who had taken Keitaro away for good had seemed impossible, but once she'd taken a deep breath and admitted (to herself) that she'd already pushed him away it became slightly easier.

Very slightly.

In truth, Naru would rather undergo water torture than have to go through that again, apologies being something her stiff-necked pride abhorred completely. Thankfully, Mutsumi had returned to being the good-natured and slightly offbeat Okinawan she had always been, and accepted it without hesitation. She had even managed to do so without a hint of smugness, something Naru deep down had to give her one-time-friend credit for – it would have been so easy for Mutsumi to rub her nose firmly in the mess she had made while gloating about her victory.

Keitaro had stood close beside his girlfriend for the entirety of Naru's slightly strangled and rambling apology, and hadn't said a word until Mutsumi had smiled in her typically blissful way. Even then the only indication the man gave was a small nod of his head and a hint of a grin. It was enough for the bespectacled girl to know she was forgiven, but deep down she knew that all was not forgotten.

It was also enough for her to realise Keitaro had changed beyond her realisation – the mouse in human clothing was long gone, leaving a man in its place. She'd waited for years for something like it to happen, and then it had without her even noticing.

Yet another reason why she just _had_ to leave.

Growling quietly under her breath, Naru ruffled a hand through her honey locks. No point dwelling on it any longer, what was done was done. Now the girl was focussed on what she still had to do before she could leave in peace.

Silently the girl held two hands up in front of her face, eight digits extended.

_Okay, so that's Keitaro and Mutsumi done._ Naru said mentally, folding two of the fingers on her left hand. _And Motoko said she needs nothing from me, so she's fine._ The last finger on the left hand curled inwards, and the honey-haired girl turned her attention to the outstretched fingers (and thumb) on her right hand.

_Right. Let's see…..Sara was practically delighted to have me back, and though she cares for Keitaro more than she'll ever admit, it's all old news to her. After all, she used to break more than enough pottery over 'the dork' herself. _The thumb was folded into the palm. _Su doesn't hold anything against anyone for long. And after she tried to cheer me up yesterday when she found me sat in here in the dark…...she good as forgave me then._ Her index finger followed her thumb, folding down to leave three digits still upright. _Mitsune, well, after the last time I visited it's safe to say we're okay. I forgot how much I miss the old fox….._

Mitsune's finger now flexed, Naru stared at the two remaining – her ring and little fingers. The ring finger represented Haruka, who had already chewed her out well and truly the morning she had returned. As a result the chain-smoking hostess would feel she had said her piece, and hopefully considered the case closed. Hopefully.

Which left the little finger.

Shinobu.

Naru swallowed audibly as a mental image of the violet haired home-maker swam into mind, one where once meek eyes flashed with steely determination.

Keitaro wasn't the only one who had changed, it seemed. And while Shinobu had also taken the chance to give her the bollocking of a lifetime (and a slap that nearly took her face off) when she'd returned, Naru doubted the younger girl considered it anything like equivalent exchange for what her 'sempai' had endured.

Staring at the single erect digit as it stood defiantly before her, Naru groaned throatily before letting her hand flop down to her side. If only everything in life could be simple…..

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Staring down at the contents of her lap, Mitsune tried her level best to stop a shudder passing through her. Feeling more self-conscious than a schoolgirl naked before an assembly, the fox belatedly wished that the curtains were drawn around her when she'd acceded to talk to the nice doctor with the nice tie and equally nice smile. It had quickly become apparent what he had come to talk about, and sensing that perhaps now was not the time he had left Mitsune with some 'useful information' and a promise to return.

Now it went without saying that there were few secrets on the ward – all of the women in her bay of six knew one-another well enough by this point as the evenings had to be passed doing something – and that something was gossip. In fact, after Keitaro had visited Mitsune had to spend several hours both denying that she was involved and advising two or three of her temporary room-mates that the man in question was off limits. It was true that all of those present had a fair idea of why everyone else was there, but at this moment the fox suddenly felt completely exposed. Furtively, she rifled through the leaflets gathered between her legs with an odd feeling of shame.

_Alcohol and you…..Kicking the habit, the ten-step guide…..free anonymous helpline……_

Shuddering again Mitsune gathered up the scattered literature, every single page incriminating as the rest, and shoved the collected paper into her bedside cabinet.

"Everything okay there, Mitsune-san?" The red-head in the bed opposite called, regarding her with mild interest. Typical of the girl, Mitsune thought. The half-German firebrand she knew as 'Asuka-san' was incapable of keeping her nose out of anything.

"Yeah, it's nothing." The fox replied dismissively, herself laying back to study the ceiling as an alternative to making contact with anyone.

Although she as trying her very best not to think about it, the parting words her doctor gave her echoed endlessly in the chambers of her mind.

'_If you can't control things, you're going to have to give up for good. Before it's too late….._'

For good?

Yeah, she'd thrown all her bottles away. Emptied them out and discarded them when she'd realised just what she'd been doing to herself. But Mitsune had to admit that it was an impulsive act, ironically fuelled by the alcohol she already had in her system. Now all of a sudden, the possibility that she may never touch a drop of sake again had filtered into her consciousness.

To be truthful, Mitsune agreed that she should do it. That her worst habit had done her no good whatsoever, and quite a bit of harm in the end.

The problem was she really wanted a drink. Needed one, almost.

Heaven knew why. The girl was more than aware of the options, which essentially were stop and stay healthy or relapse and risk the same fate (if not worse). Logic told her the right thing to do, and she wholeheartedly approved of the idea. But if someone were to place a glass of warm, smooth sake before her right now……

Feeling her tongue growing dry, the girl rolled over and closed her eyes in the hope of sleeping off the cravings.

Fat chance.

It wasn't as if she was afraid of not having a drink now. Or tonight. Or even the next night. But for there to be no prospect on any night……it was something she simply couldn't fathom.

Yes, she'd had some awful times. Times when she'd woken up without knowing how she even made it to bed, sometimes waking up to find she hadn't even managed that. Playing the fool then feeling a fool the next day, attempting to drown her sorrows and nearly drowning herself. A full library-worth of scenes she wished she could re-enact or erase from history, the legacy of her Achilles heel. But all the same, between the embarrassments and idiocy, Mitsune could honestly say she enjoyed some of her evenings spent relaxing on her crutch while passing her time with Naru and company. In fact, she had a hard time remembering the last time she'd genuinely kicked back and relaxed without a glass to hand.

Mitsune had started to wonder if she still knew how to enjoy life without it.

It used to just be something to give life a little colour now and again, nothing more than a harmless bad habit. But somewhere along the way, it had started filling in the blanks the fox couldn't otherwise ignore. Empty days, lonely nights. Long, dark, lonely nights.

Suddenly, Mitsune really, _really_ wanted a drink.

Scraping an arid tongue across the roof of her mouth, the girl lurched upright and grasped the glass of water sat waiting at her bedside, downing it without a pause for breath. The contents drained she set the glass down, slumping back into the uncomfortable sheets and draping an arm across her eyes, feeling like a vampire who'd been living on tomato juice for a month.

Really, never again?

_Never?_

It was one thing if the girl would be able to announce a limit and then adhere to it, but Mitsune knew she couldn't. She'd tried before, hell others had tried for her, yet she always found a way to hoodwink those supervising. One always, always led to one more. The only way that she could possibly stop her once she'd started was the complete absence of anything drinkable within reasonable walking distance.

……Although thinking about it, she'd discarded her entire collection of Sake the day she'd ended up in an ambulance. So it wasn't as if she had any available when she actually escaped from hospital.

In which case, something like that might just be possible…..

Casting a glance at the closed cabinet and remembering the assembly of leaflets contained within, Mitsune closed her eyes tightly and shuddered. It was far from perfect, but having someone control the availability and supply was definitely preferable to the prospect of lifelong abstinence.

The fox just didn't feel strong enough to consider the prospect yet.

So, she would need to front up and admit it all to someone, the truth of the situation and what she needed done. Of course, there was only one person Mitsune could consider asking. It was time to swap crutches, and instead of relying on a bottle to support her she would be placing her weight on a certain three-time ex-ronin. Again.

In truth, Mitsune suspected Keitaro wouldn't want it any other way.

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"So, this is it?" Keitaro asked speculatively, eyeing the simple cabinet being firmly screwed onto the wall.

"Yep!" Su chirped, placing her sonic screwdriver between her teeth and fishing another screw from one of her numerous pockets.

"It looks pretty…..ordinary." And it did. There was little to discern the three-foot by three-foot box being mounted to the wall from a medicine cabinet. A medicine cabinet for the hypochondriac perhaps, but a medicine cabinet all the same. The only feature that warned any onlooker that this was not another off-the-peg cabinet was the Three-eyed Molmolian brand adorning each corner of its mirror-glass front.

"Everyone says the best method of attack is surprise." The sprightly girl replied, slotting the screw into its bracket. "Well, I happen to know for a fact the best method of attack is high explosives, but the rest of the world's slow catchin' up." Watching Su press her screwdriver against the screw head and press a button, Keitaro suppressed a shudder.

"Su-chan, you haven't….."

"Nah." Stepping back and surveying her work, Su slotted the screwdriver into another pocket and grinned. "Well, not _high_ explosives anyways."

"Okay….." Taking a half-step towards the door and brushing a fleck of sweat from his brow, Keitaro started to wonder if having the 'Sake Safe' as he'd mentally christened it in his old room was a good idea.

"I'm wonderin' Kei-kun, why d'ya need this?" Her sea-green eyes curious, Su turned them on her Kanrinin. "Whatcha want ta lock up?"

"Uh…..It's sort of a secret." Keitaro murmured uneasily.

"Oh. Okay!" Seemingly satisfied, Su sprang onto the man's shoulders and craned over to look at him eye-to-eye, only upside-down. "Say, why'd ya want it here anyways? Ya spend mosta your time in Turtle-lady's room now."

"Well, it had to go somewhere. As Mitsune's going back to her old room and I still use this place sometimes, why not?" Taking his life in his hands, Keitaro approached the cabinet and inspected it curiously. "So, it's fingerprint access, right?"

"Yep! Just press yer index finger on a Molmol symbol an' hey presto! It opens!" Following instructions the bespectacled man smiled as the door swung open with barely a click.

"Who's got access?"

"You, Haruka an' me." Sensing the glance Keitaro sent her way, Su chuckled. "Ya think I'd make a safe I couldn't get into? Ya reckon _anyone_ could?" The man chuckled himself, shaking his head gently.

"Just promise me not to open it unless I say so."

"Okie dokey." Flipping herself off the Kanrinin's shoulders, Su grinned broadly at him. "Now, I've set up an auto-close timer for twenty seconds……" She paused, and the door swung of its own accord and shut with an audible click. "…..so make sure nothin' is stoppin' it from closin'. I won't tell ya what'll happen if it's being jammed open, don't want to spoil the surprise. But trust me; surprise is the right word for it."

Keitaro decided he could live without that kind of surprise.

"Ara, it's in?" Mutsumi poked her brown-tressed head through the door, giving the people within a smile.

"Yeah."

"Good. I hoped it would be before Mitsune came home." As if latently noticing Su's presence, the Okinawan placed a palm to her mouth. "Oh, perhaps I shouldn't have said that……"

"No bother, I know the score." Su chortled. "I keeps secrets with the best of 'em. Betcha didn't know I'm the living repository for Molmol's classified military technologies!"

"You are?"

"Yeah." Scratching her chin, the tan girl adopted a thoughtful pose. "Come to think of it, wasn't that meant to be classified?"

"Su-chan….." At Keitaro's groan, Su gave him a particularly cheesy grin.

"Anyway, I've been asked to bring you downstairs. We're expecting Mitsune home any minute." Apparently from nowhere Mutsumi donned a garishly colourful party hat, and tossed two more at the others. "I think she's due a welcome home party, ne?"

"Let's just hope it goes better than the last few parties have." Her boyfriend replied dryly, placing the neon pink headwear on his head and pulling the elastic under his chin.

"Sure it will!" Su cheered, discarding the cheap cardboard she'd been given and withdrawing from stuff space something that could only be loosely called a hat. It involved a gravity-defying combination of neon lights, sparklers and the slogan 'Welcome Back Kitsune' awash with glitter adorning its front.

"One you made earlier?" Mutsumi asked, chuckling behind her hand.

"You knows it!" Springing back onto Keitaro's shoulders, Su flourished a dramatic finger at the doorway. "Onwards! To victory!"

"Whatever you say, Su-chan." Walking out of the room Keitaro gave a smile to the waiting Mutsumi, who returned it. "So, ready for another night of madness?"

"Ara, I'm sure it won't be so bad." Falling into step with her boyfriend, the Okinawan glanced at him out of the corner of her mahogany eyes. "Besides, awful as the last few parties were, it all turned out well in the end……"

The warmth of another hand taking her own in a firm grasp was all the answer she needed.

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It was almost as if she hadn't been away.

The party was in full swing, and so was Su (from the ceiling). Her Super-sonic Mk.5 had made another appearance and was proceeding to do its job really quite efficiently and showed no signs of causing widespread damage or mass panic, something quite unique among the girl's inventions. There was some good-natured banter going on between Seta, his protégé and his adoptive daughter, although the glint in Sara's eye suggested that it wasn't all entirely good natured. Mutsumi had stationed herself beside a bowl of peanuts and chatted to Shinobu, occasionally throwing a nut over her shoulder for the sugar-hyped Su to catch.

All the same, there was the occasional hint that something had changed. For one, the place where Motoko would normally be sat expressing her mild disdain at such unruly behaviour was empty (for good reason, she understood). For two, Naru sat like a stranger, peering like Ebeneezer Scrooge through an invisible window at the happy gathering within. Three….. taking a sip of her drink, Mitsune sighed. Orange juice never tasted so good without champagne mixed in.

Well, what will be will be.

"Mitsune-san?" Disturbed from her musings the fox looked up into Haruka's calm face.

"Yes?"

"Your apron." The older woman stated shortly depositing a neatly folded garment on the table before her. "I expect you at work bright and early tomorrow." Meeting the firm stare head-on, Mitsune nodded.

"Gotcha, Haruka-san." Bright and early? She could manage early, but there was no way in the seven hells she would be bright at seven in the morning. Unfolding the apron the girl let her grey eyes examine it, coming to the conclusion that it was something she would normally not be seen dead in. Well, there was nothing for it. She owed the Urashima family, and owed them a huge amount. Better to start working at the debt sooner rather than later.

"Ara, it suits you Kitsune-chan." Mutsumi commented, sliding into the chair beside her.

"Ya reckon?" Turning the garment around, the fox cracked a tiny smile as she saw her name etched out in silver thread in one corner. "Well, given how long I'm gonna be wearin' it for, it'd better."

"Okay Kitsune-chan?" Keitaro wandered over, placing a hand on Mutsumi's shoulder and catching sight of what the girl was holding. "I look forward to seeing you wear that, I reckon it'll look good on you." The man unwittingly echoed, causing a hint of rose to blossom on the fox's face.

"Thanks guys. I really appreciate it."

"No problem." Leaning down, the Kanrinin placed a peck on his girlfriend's cheek before straightening. Out of the corner of her eye Mitsune saw Naru push her drink away and vanish into the kitchen, and she stifled a sigh. "I'm going to go ask Haruka-san something, see you in a few." Keitaro finished, before doing exactly that.

"Y'know, I was so focussed on Shinobu an' Motoko, I never really saw ya comin'." Mitsune commented lazily to the suddenly attentive Okinawan beside her.

"Hmmmm? What do you mean, Kitsune-chan?"

"Well, I reckoned when the whole thing blew apart, it'd be one ah them ta muscle in. Never thought it'd be ya, not 'til I saw you two together when we had that celebration for Su."

"You saw that?" Mutsumi asked, dark eyes surprised.

"Yeah, sure did. Made me jealous as hell. Damn, I reckon ah've still got a touch ah the green eyes now." Seeing the mahogany gaze grow troubled, Mitsune waved a hand in the air. "Nah, don't worry Mutsumi-chan. The guy's yours, not even a herd ah wild horses gonna pull him away from ya."

For a few long seconds the pair looked at one another in silence, before Mutsumi gave a musical laugh. "I'll take that as your blessing, okay?"

"Fine, if that's what ya want." Mitsune grinned. "But I'll warn ya, do anythin' to push the guy away an' we'll be on him like a pack ah wolves on a defenceless lamb." The smile broadened, a hint of the mischievous fox making a long-overdue return.

"Ara, I don't plan on it." With that the conversation drifted onto everyday topics, what the weather was doing at the moment, how Motoko was doing, if she was going to be an aunt by morning. To Mitsune's eternal relief she was not constantly surrounded by concerned well-wishers or treated like a china doll, in fact when it came to her turn on the dance floor with the ever-enthusiastic Kaolla she was treated more like a rubber ball than a china doll. At some point Naru had left the kitchen and disappeared up into her room with barely a word, but a flushed Shinobu had simply passed on the message that the student had a headache.

She could sense Seta and Sara were trying to fill the hole she left - the latter of whom smoked up a storm with his wife, the former alternating between teasing Keitaro and dancing with the Molmolian whirlwind – but all the same the girl felt Naru's absence keenly until the party was spiced up by the appearance of Mutsumi and Keitaro on the dancefloor. Although Keitaro spent the entire time trying to avoid crushing his partner's toes, the unbridled enthusiasm the pair displayed drew smiles from those watching. Inevitably the sight of his protégé's clumsy efforts spurred Seta into action, and the tall archaeologist swept Haruka onto the floor before demonstrating that dancing skill was one thing Keitaro had failed to inherit from his mentor.

Watching her adoptive family making fools of themselves with every sign of enjoyment, Mitsune felt a smile pinch at her lips as she drank the last of her juice and discarded the empty glass. Sure, tomorrow might be another day, but tonight……tonight she could probably go without.

"Much as I wish it wasn't true, they make a good couple." Shinobu said from over her left shoulder, and Mitsune needed no explanation as to who she was talking about.

"Yeah……"

"Ah, to hell with it. Want to dance?" The fox glanced at the proffered hand before looking up at Shinobu, grin growing broad.

"Sure. Why not?" Allowing the violet-haired girl to draw her into an odd hybrid of a waltz and the chicken dance, Mitsune let reality take a back seat as she span from partner to partner, even sharing a fast foxtrot with Haruka who was trying (and failing) to give the impression it was all a bit of a chore.

When the party was finally over and Mitsune lay in bed that night, drinking in the familiarity of her old room, the fox's only wish was that Naru had been there with her instead of hiding like a fugitive in her own home.

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She should have known it wouldn't have been so easy.

Naru sat hunched on her bed, chin firmly cupped in her hands, knees drawn up to her chest defensively.

Shinobu…..

The young girl had been the last barrier to Naru being a free woman so to speak. The only one who still seemed to harbour a grudge – the only one who was yet to forgive. All the Tokyo-U student had managed to draw out of her younger housemate was a grudging acceptance that they had to share the same space and breathe the same air. It seemed the only reason that Shinobu tolerated her presence at all was because her 'Sempai' would not appreciate any further violence. But surely, a grudge was simply that, something that could be dispelled with the correct words. Right?

Wrong.

In retrospect, perhaps trying to pin Shinobu down in the middle of a party was far from a good idea. After all, it was during a party only weeks before that the world turned over and threw the comfortable little existence of the Hinata-sou into chaos. But she'd had enough of seeing everyone else apparently enjoying themselves, and the sight of the violet-haired chef disappearing into the kitchen appeared to give her a bona-fide escape route. Two birds with one stone, it seemed.

And in truth, when Shinobu looked up and saw her entering the kitchen she hadn't detected a hint of malice…..

"_Naru-san." The girl stated formally, straightening from the crouch she had assumed to remove some plates from a low cupboard._

"_Shinobu-san." Naru had replied, deciding that 'chan' would be pushing things._

"_Yes?" Sensing that procrastination would do her no good at all, the honey-haired girl took her courage in both hands._

"_I just wanted to say…..I'm sorry. Again. About Keitaro and all that, I honestly didn't know….." She had trailed off, searching for any sign that Shinobu was considering her words. _

_Nothing._

"_And, well, I know that you really resent me for it. But, I think we have to move on now, otherwise we never will….."_

In retrospect, Naru mused, she should have stopped right there when it was clear something was wrong. By that moment everything about Shinobu, from her posture to the way her hand was grasping a plate so tightly it was in danger of cracking……like the red markings on a poisonous snake, or the black-and-yellow stripes on a wasps' body, every inch of the girls body and posture read 'leave me alone' in massive letters.

Unfortunately, Naru was utterly blind.

"_So, I was wondering……would you forgive me? Please?" She had finished, favouring at Shinobu's tense back with a hopeful smile. The moments which followed were dangerously silent until the younger girl emitted what could only be called a derisive snortl._

"_So that's it? You think that you can stroll in here, make your plea and suddenly all is forgotten?" Still stood with her back to Naru, Shinobu barked a short laugh. "Sorry Naru-san, but the answer is no."_

She had honestly not expected that answer. In fact, Naru hadn't even considered that absolution wouldn't be forthcoming. Needless to say, the shock of having her attempt rebuffed so firmly had caused one of Naru's worst qualities to rear its ugly head.

"_Why not? What's the point in being like that?" She'd seethed, ire alight. "It won't do either of us any good."_

"_Sorry Naru-san. I can't forgive you right now, simple as that." Came the cool response, in stark contrast to the tense shoulders._

"_Oh come on, you're just being childish." _

Oh how she wished she hadn't said those words now. Shinobu had rounded on her like a striking rattlesnake.

"_What's childish is stamping your feet and complaining when you don't get your way, Naru-bozu. I said no and I mean no, and acting like this isn't going to change my mind."_

"_It's just stupid to hold a grudge….."_

"_Shut. Up." The blood-chilling tone coming from Shinobu's lips stunned Naru into complying, the girl feeling a shudder pass down her spine as a truly fearsome violet glare fixed upon her. "Now listen Naru-bozu, and listen good. You don't know why I won't let you off the hook, and I don't trust you enough any more to tell you why. But listen when I say you are a long, long way from being a friend of mine."_

"_But – "_

"_No. I can't forgive you, not yet. So what I want you to do is turn around and walk out of the kitchen, and come back in about six months time. Then maybe we can have a civilised conversation." _

It was clear already that the conversation was over, but being who she was Naru just couldn't let the bone go yet.

"_If you could only give me a chance to prove myself….." The honey-eyed girl had looked on in puzzlement as Shinobu had exhaled deeply, anger seemingly giving way to sadness._

"_Don't you get it Naru-san? It's not that I won't forgive you, I really do wish I could. I just can't. Everything is a bit too fresh, a bit too painful for me to just forget. So please, just leave me alone until I'm ready." _

The way she'd said it left no room for argument. Naru had left the room at something just short of a run, and only stopped when in the sanctuary of her temporary room. Hence the girl was staring at the winter moon through the glass panes of her window, knowing beyond any doubt that any hope she had of the Hinata-sou remaining a home from home had drifted through the cracks in the wood and dispersed in the frigid night air. Maybe, just maybe somewhere down the line she might be able to return with her head held high, but now she had to leave.

Leave soon. And for good.

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Motoko eyed the closed door before her with trepidation, fighting the urge to pace. The battle lasted all of fifteen milliseconds, and before she knew it she was treading an already well-trodden path back and forth along the passageway outside her sister's room.

She couldn't ever remember feeling so nervous. The fact it wasn't herself she was nervous for didn't help.

"Motoko-chan, you're wearing out the floor. Come, sit down." The voice of her mother barely registered, but the raven-haired girl found herself sitting without hesitation. "There, now just relax. It will all be fine, Tsuruko is a strong woman and there have been no complications thus far."

"……." Motoko couldn't deny her mother was right. From the moment Tsuruko mysteriously vanished to the lavatory (for obvious reasons, in hindsight) to the present, everything had progressed smoothly as the train they had travelled in. For the first few hours, aside from the occasional wince or hitch in her sister's breathing Motoko would never have believed the moment had arrived. Now, it still seemed that events were progressing right on schedule.

That didn't make some of the noises which were coming out of the room any easier to tolerate.

The young Tokyo-U aspirant had always considered herself to be a stoic individual, someone not easily unnerved. But in truth, the sound of someone she admired and possibly even idolised screaming in agony chilled the girl in a way the harshest frost could not. As another wave of sound seeped through the thin walls and found its unwelcome way into Motoko's ears, the young woman found herself back on her feet and pacing back and forth once again without any conscious thought involved.

"Looks like we're getting close." At the calm statement Motoko rounded on her mother, mouth ajar.

"How can you be so calm, Okasan? Do you not worry about what may be taking place behind that door as we speak?" The older woman simply smiled at her daughter, olive eyes placating.

"I have been in Tsuruko's position twice myself, Motoko-chan. To know what she is going through does not ease the displeasure of hearing it, but experience does remove fear of the unknown. So….." Patting the chair beside her, the woman gestured for Motoko to sit down. "…..Your beloved older sister has informed me of your decision to renounce your claim to the school." Seeing the girl freeze at the statement, the older woman shook her head. "Now, I am not here to admonish you. So long as somebody carries the mantle forwards, it is not of significant concern to me which one of you does. I always believed you to desire the position at some point, what happened to change your mind?" Seeing nothing but curiosity on her mother's face, Motoko decided to be honest.

"Many things. I did not wish to leave my good friends, we rely upon one another as a true family. Also, I have grown to love my studies and the world of academia. Giving up the sword seems truly fitting given the grievances I have caused with it in the past, and I have found a new path to follow."

"I see. Well, it is your decision, and I am pleased to see you have arrived at it with due consideration."

"Thank you, Okasan." Motoko answered, breathing a silent sigh of relief that she didn't have to mention the one thing (or in this case, person) underpinning all of the reasons behind her change in perspective.

"So, Tsuruko is to remain the school's head……" The elder Aoyama mused quietly, eyes distant.

"Yes." Suddenly remembering her self-appointed mission, Motoko turned her attention on her mother. "Okasan, why is it that Tsuruko receives no help with her duties? Surely there are enough people in the school to allow some division of her workload." At the question, the older lady rolled her eyes in a display of exasperation.

"Because she's too proud to ask for help." Seeing her daughter's disbelief, the woman shrugged. "Motoko-chan, you know your sister is an incredibly passionate woman, and she refuses to accept anything but the best. The unfortunate result is that she only delegates to those she trusts to do a job well as herself, and you can imagine how short that list is."

Motoko guessed the number of people on the list totalled one.

"But I have to find some way of helping her….." The raven-haired girl broke off with a grimace as a particularly loud and lengthy bellow rattled through the house. "…..I cannot allow her to sacrifice so much purely for myself. Even if it takes threats, coercion or blackmail, I will not let it happen." She finished firmly, face set in determination.

"I agree, my dear. It is about time your sister understood that no one person is an island. Although I imagine that what is happening now might soften her resolve." Her mother said knowingly as another scream ripped through the cold night air. Motoko found her fingers reaching for her ears, but a second sound stopped them in their tracks.

An infant's cry.

Stood in preparation for another bout of pacing, the raven-haired girl felt her legs sagging beneath her weight and she sat down heavily, suddenly short of breath. An overwhelming _something_ settled in her chest, a weight different from the albatross she had been burdened with in the past. Despite its size the mass didn't seem to drag her down, in fact it almost seemed to be composed of hydrogen, making her feel so light it was as if her toes would barely brush the ground should she walk upon them. Olive eyes wide and suddenly tearful, Motoko turned them on her mother and gave her a watery smile.

"Congratulations,_ Obasan_." Smiling wryly, the older woman laughed.

"That makes two of us, Obasan."

For the second time in as many moments, Motoko was deeply glad she was sitting down. "_Obasan_……" She repeated to herself, as if tasting the word and finding it delectable. The pair made eye contact, and almost instantly found themselves in a joyous embrace, one punctuated by peals of laughter.

The Aoyama family now had another member. And in that house, for a short while at least, all was well with the world.

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Well, one to come. After that, who knows?

I certainly don't!

'Til next time,

Nodoka Miyazawa.


	24. Chapter 24

It's about time.

I apologise for the long, long wait for this chapter. Real life played a part.....but perhaps the fact that it's the last chapter played it's part too. After so long, to have to actually make some kind of conclusion......this fic has been more than a simple story to me, it's been a true experience. An education.

And most of all, it's been wonderful fun.

I wish to thank all those who followed this through to it's conclusion, and also the purple fox for her patience and input. There are so many who have reviewed my piece, and to all of those who did I thank you.

Now, time to get on with things.

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Repercussions – Chapter 24

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She had wielded a katana with thoughtless precision for all the years of her life, and could cut a falling leaf clean in two with eyes closed and hands bound. But, as she gazed at the warm bundle cradled in her arms, Motoko suddenly felt her grip could never be secure enough to hold her new niece with the safety she desired.

"Beautiful….." The raven-haired girl murmured, placing a slim finger in the infant's miniature palm and watching her fingers curl around it in reflex.

"She is." Eyes tired but joyous, Tsuruko reclined in bed and examined the scene before her with pleasure. She had never doubted that Motoko would be a good aunt, the genuine smile her sister wore told her the girl was already wrapped around one of her daughter's tiny fingers. It had been seventeen hours of varying degrees of agony (the last few hours truly deserving the name) as a climax to months of nausea, bloating and backache, but at this moment Tsuruko would swear on her honour that it was worth it.

Four adults in the same room, each one utterly enraptured by a tiny child that had no idea she was the centre of attention. Indeed, the girl in question seemed under whelmed by the whole thing judging by the ease with which she slept, something Tsuruko could empathise with.

She was completely exhausted too.

"Have you thought of a name yet, Oneesan?" Motoko asked, still wearing a grin that she would never be seen with in any other circumstances.

"Not yet. We have a few in mind, however." Tsuruko shared a glance with her husband, seeing his dark eyes regarding her with mirth. It was the one thing the pair had been unable to agree on – although she had the feeling that she would just _know_ which name was right when the time came.

"I see." Gazing down at the sleeping infant again, Motoko felt the same smile pinch at her mouth again, one she seemed to have no control over. Not that she cared. The girl had only a faint cap of black hair, hair that suggested she was going to be an Aoyama in appearance as well as name. "I must say, Oneesan, that I really do understand now. She's going to grow up to be a fine woman, I know it already."

"Yes." Tsuruko replied, before making no attempt to smother a huge yawn. "I hope that I can play some part in that, but time will tell." As her sister yawned for the second time in as many moments, Motoko locked eyes with her mother, seeing the same determination smouldering in the older woman's eyes.

There was no _way_ Tsuruko was going to become a martyr to the school. She wouldn't allow it, whether her sister knew it or not.

"You need your sleep, my dear." The newly-minted grandmother announced, laying a firm hand on her eldest daughter's shoulder. "The resumption of duties can wait until tomorrow, however I will not allow you to go out searching for them. Let them come to you, you have earned at least that much." The stern tone didn't draw much reaction from Tsuruko, although the way her eyelids drooped suggested she wasn't entirely listening.

"Whatever you say, mother. Now, I am afraid I must ask you to take your leave, as I doubt that I shall be making much conversation for the next few hours."

"Certainly." Pacing forwards Motoko handed her niece to Tsuruko, who gratefully took the sleeping infant before passing her on to her husband. "May I say once again Oneesan, congratulations. We're all very proud of you."

"Thank you Imoutochan. I only hope I will not betray your faith in me……" A few seconds later, the sound of steady snoring announced that the sandman had claimed yet another victim. The other adults watched the new mother sleep for several moments before, as if on an unspoken command, they turned to one another.

"I trust you will assist us?" Motoko asked the man sat beside the bed, who cradled his new daughter like the most precious and fragile china.

"Of course. I know Tsu-chan inside and out, and also know that she will put all else above herself. I have no intention of letting her do any more than what is absolutely necessary."

"I believe the best way is to make no mention of any matters involving work." The eldest woman mused aloud, eyes not leaving the recumbent figure before her. "From what I recall the first few days after giving birth were something of a blur, perhaps if we let time pass and let her get to know her child, by the time she realises weeks have passed she may open her eyes and see that the world has not suddenly come to an end."

"It is worth a try. Better than directly ordering her, which I imagine she would not take too kindly to." Motoko agreed.

"There's more than enough time for work and training in the future. You only get to treasure a new life on rare occasion, and it's something I will not allow my daughter to miss." Turning on her heel the grandmother strode towards the door, throwing a farewell over her shoulder as she left.

For several long seconds Motoko and Tsuruko's husband regarded the tiny child in his arms for several seconds, before the girl eventually spoke. "I….I never really understood why my sister chose to marry. It always seemed to me it was merely a distraction from the art, and as a result I doubt I afforded you the respect you deserved. But now I…..I have found love, although a love unrequited. I have seen the result, this new life you hold in your grasp, born out of love." Taking a deep breath, Motoko let her olive eyes meet dark ones. "I wish to apologise for my failures. Please allow me to atone through my assistance at this time."

To her surprise, the man chuckled.

"Motoko-san, wishing to defend the honour of your own flesh and blood is not something to apologise for. What you are doing now is more than enough."

"Thank you." Bowing once, Motoko followed her mother through the still open doorway, suddenly feeling the strain of a long day's travelling and an equally long night of anxious waiting. Pacing slowly through her ancestral home the girl drifted like a ship in calm waters, taking long moments to absorb the atmosphere, appreciating the peace of a house at rest. It was such an odd sensation, being back in the home she had grown up in – nostalgic, yes, but also tinged with a hint of regret. When she was younger the house had been a symbol of injustice, imprisoning her, tying her to a fate she was unsure she desired. Perhaps that was why she'd never truly appreciated its elegant architecture, or the art which adorned many of its walls.

Now she could. Because she was merely a visitor, nothing more.

Pausing upon a walkway overlooking the gardens, Motoko leaned gently against the railing and gazed out at the tranquil scene. If anything, the fine art adorning the walls of the Aoyama home was upstaged by the mastery with which the grounds had been crafted.

Sliding down until her posterior met the cool wooden floor, the young woman slipped her feet between the wooden rails and allowed them to dangle in mid-air as she surveyed the sight before her. In the foreground a small pond, its waters black and silent as the grave, not a ripple gracing its surface. Beyond that the moonlit silhouettes of hand-crafted bushes and shrubs dotting the landscape, white stone pathways lacing their way web-like through and between them.

When she was only a girl, a girl with what seemed like the weight of the world on her shoulders, Motoko would often sit in this very position and stare out into the darkness. In the depths of the night it once seemed to encompass the world itself, shadow defeating the eye long before sight could reach the perimeter fence. Back then, feeling the pressure of her future hung albatross-like around her neck, it had seemed to Motoko that her home and its gardens _were_ the entire world. That there was nothing beyond its gardens, no future outside the walls.

How wrong she had been.

Living at the Hinata-sou had not always been easy, least of all since the turn of the year. One fate after another had befallen her surrogate family, and even now wounds still needed to heal. Her own wounds as well, inflicted by a well-meaning but ignorant man, someone whose only fault was to follow his heart. If anything, this absence was well timed, allowing her the chance to reconcile with the truth.

But she would return, sure as the sun would rise and reveal the world beyond the Aoyama estate. The future she always wished for – one without the weight of expectation – was waiting for her. Her friends were waiting for her.

Keitaro was waiting for her.

That was enough.

With a deep breath Motoko pulled herself to her feet, deciding to go and make a start on the sleep she was long overdue.

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By the standards of what had taken place, the weeks which followed in the Hinata-sou were comparatively peaceful and sanguine. Which was like saying a gale is calm compared to a hurricane – true, but compared to your common everyday breeze it's still pretty damn windy.

Naru's dressing down at the hands of Shinobu announced a return to her status as _Persona Non Grata_ – a silent shadow periodically seen in the hallways and rooms of the Hinata-sou, something that was known to exist but barely acknowledged. The girl spent much of her time planted firmly in her room, and the rest was spent in university, keenly studying with the certainty it was all she had left. Su, Sara and Keitaro all passed by regularly, and Naru even found a plate with her name on it at the table every evening – something that fed and watered the tiny seed of hope still buried somewhere within her. All the same, now even more than when she'd first returned, the girl found herself utterly alone. Part of this was because the true gravity of her actions had taken hold, but the other part was the absence of Motoko and Mitsune's continued war with herself.

In truth, Naru had been a little hurt when the fox hadn't made regular visits up to her room to provide a little moral support (and hopefully a comfortable shoulder to cry on) – yes her friend was being worked like a slave for eight or more hours a day by Haruka, but even so it wasn't much to ask, was it?

Then she'd started asking Keitaro what was occupying the fox's evenings. The only answer she got was a trademark nervous scratch of the head and what could only be called a politician's response – lots of words that, when all added together, meant nothing at all. Remembering the price of her impatience, Naru instead slowly began teasing the story out of the Kanrinin whenever she got the chance.

It wasn't entirely pleasant.

Keitaro himself had begun to wish he hadn't taken on the role of jailer to Mitsune's glass prison. The first few days were not too bad, the fox throwing herself into her duties with newfound energy and enthusiasm. However, as the end of the first week approached she had asked for a few drinks on a couple of evenings – something he had supplied with a smile. Then the request came the next night, and the one after…..at which point he found himself having to put his foot down.

Mitsune had taken the refusal with a nod and a not-quite-real smile, and walked away.

Twenty minutes later, he was able to witness first-hand the after effects of Kaolla Su's 'countermeasures'. After helping a still smoking Mitsune to her room Keitaro had suggested that trying to break into anything made by the Princess of Molmol was more trouble than it was worth, something the fox silently agreed with.

Unfortunately, she decided to try and find an easier target to exploit.

Keitaro himself.

To begin with it was cajolement, promises and offers made for just one more glass of sake. When it became quite clear that each offer was responded to with a flat 'No Sale' the girl changed tactics. Persuasion got her no further, and Mitsune became more and more frustrated as she was repeatedly denied. Unable to get to any shops during daylight hours and feeling the pressure of eyes upon her every night, the fox eventually cracked.

Mutsumi Otohime had seen the inevitable coming, but all the same could say she'd been surprised the evening her wayward friend had erupted at the dinner table. It was obvious that Mitsune had been trying to wear Keitaro down, and equally obvious that Keitaro was not the pliable weakling he used to be. It didn't make it easy – the Kanrinin naturally wanted his friends to be happy, and the increasingly desperate way in which Mitsune was attempting to coerce him had begun to take it's toll. Mutsumi simply busied herself by taking her boyfriend's mind off things in ways that only she could, all the while expecting the fox to give up.

However, no-one at the Hinata-sou really foresaw that after a full hour of increasingly desperate pleading Mitsune would throw what's known as a total wobbly. The first suggestion mount Konno was set to blow its stack was the sound of flesh meeting wood, as the fox allowed her frustration to show with the repeated pounding of her fist upon the table while she pleaded her case for a glass of sake with dinner. This was followed by more sinister rumblings as she pushed her food around the plate, a constant stream of mumbled vitriol turning Shinobu's ears red.

While everyone did try their best to ignore the inevitable, the residents of the Hinata-sou couldn't help but notice when Mitsune stood so quickly that her chair tumbled over backwards, clattering to the floor with a resounding 'thud'. Wide eyed and tremulous, the girl fixed Keitaro with a scorching glare and demanded a drink.

Request denied.

Half a second later the sound of shattering crockery echoed through the room as Mitsune's plate hurtled into the far wall and smashed into countless pieces, its contents strewn liberally along its flight path. As the echoes died away the silver-blonde had stared at the man opposite her, features curled into an ugly feral snarl.

Keitaro stared wordlessly back.

In the blink of an eye Mitsune launched herself across the table, scattering dishes and cups as she went, seemingly intent on clawing the man's eyes out. She never got close. Shinobu instantly had her by the scruff of her T-shirt, face warning her that any further aggression would be met in kind, while Keitaro captured the arms intent on maiming him in a firm grip. While Mitsune fought them both her utter failure to break free merely demonstrated to her how weak she had become, the truth visible to anyone watching her feeble attempts. After several seconds of increasingly futile effort the grey-haired girl had collapsed into a sobbing heap against the same man she'd tried to attack, prompting the rest of the table to retreat and give the pair their space.

It wasn't the last time Mitsune erupted, either.

After the incident Haruka had placed a blanket ban on alcohol for the entire Hinata-sou, not impressed that her 'Nephew' was being put at risk by trying to meet Mitsune half-way. An Urashima-only meeting took place the next day in the tea-shop, one that resulted in Su's cabinet being re-assigned in the bathroom as a medicine cabinet. Keitaro had admitted to Mutsumi soon afterwards that giving Kitsune the chance to feed her habit even by proxy was not _really_ a good idea.

Haruka had hit the nail on the head, but as a result the Mistress of the tea shop had been busy on fox-watch. After intercepting the girl en-route to the nearest all-night convenience store more than once, she decided to make the conditions of the deal in place as clear as possible. In fact, it could be summed up in six words.

'You go out, you stay out'.

Shinobu seemed to have stepped into Motoko's shoes as the rule enforcer within the Hinata-sou, something that made Keitaro's life much easier. Whenever the fox was found mooching in the lounge or hanging around the kitchen in a huff, the little home-maker would make her tea and chat, but take no nonsense or hear any requests that she pick up 'some wine to cook with' at the supermarket that evening. At one point, the exasperated girl had shoved a pen and some paper into Mitsune's empty hands and suggested that since she considered herself a writer, she should actually do some writing once in a while.

From that point onwards everyone saw a lot less of the wayward fox than they had before.

Shinobu herself found the role of unofficial matriarch fitted her like a second skin, as the job seemed to basically involve everything that she enjoyed doing anyway. Taking pleasure from small and simple tasks, and particularly the pleasure her work gave other people, proved to be the tonic the girl needed to ease the discomfort of having her old dreams dashed. While her continued annoyance with Naru didn't go unnoticed (although mostly unmentioned) most of the residents who did notice didn't feel it unreasonable. The Tokyo-U student did her best to stay out of Shinobu's way herself, dividing her time between university studies (at least the best she could with her wrist still in a cast) and searching for a new apartment. In return the little home-maker made sure the girl didn't go hungry, secretly cheered that the plate she set out every evening returned polished clean as a window pane.

In truth, it was Su who had prompted Shinobu's apparent change of heart. One evening the diminutive princess had been loading the Wishy-Washy Two-Point-Three, a job she had volunteered for when she'd realised she was responsible for about half of the washing-up generated. Shinobu was busy stacking the clean cutlery, when the voice of her friend had crept above the clamour of china.

"_Shinobu-chan?"_

"_Yeah?" The girl had turned to see Su looking at her with puzzled eyes._

"_Don't you think Naru will be hungry?" The very mention of the name drew Shinobu's mouth into a thin line._

"_If she is, it's not my problem."_

"_Oh." For several seconds, only the noise of water spraying within the Wishy-Washy occupied the kitchen. "So why is my dinner your problem?"_

"_Because…..you're my friend." Attempts to skirt the issue were ruined the moment Su, in a rare moment of levity, grasped her by the shoulders and span her around._

"_I wish you could see how sorry she is, Shinobu-chan."_

Staring eye-to-eye with her friend, Shinobu could tell the Molmolian was serious. A simple nod and a few leftovers later, Naru had supper waiting for her in the fridge.

Su meanwhile had returned to her life among the clouds, the only difference being fewer explosions and the occasional trip to the patent office at Keitaro's suggestion.

When she was ready to let her creations loose, the world wasn't going to know what (or who in this case) hit it.

It was quite fortunate for all of those at the Hinata-sou that Sara had begun to find Su's inventions more interesting than television, or causing chaos. A bored Sara was a destructive Sara, but from the moment the blonde had seen Su strolling through the air with apparent ease like a superhero out of a western comic (in truth Su had simply downsized her anti-gravity devices and strapped them to her feet) she was hooked. While it was pretty certain Sara McDougal would never use the inventions for the good of mankind, they kept her out of trouble – although anyone desiring privacy was well advised to draw the curtains if they didn't want to look up and see a grinning blonde preteen floating outside the window.

Mutsumi and Keitaro learned that fact pretty quickly. Why Seta's adoptive daughter was so determined to spy on their still fairly hesitant and hit-and-miss attempts at intimacy they didn't want to speculate, but after girl had appeared in mid-air with a video camera and a particularly disturbing grin securely closing the blinds was an automatic requirement.

Keitaro had made sure to stay in touch with the absent Motoko, and was pleased to hear that the ex-swordsmistress seemed to be taking to aunthood well. Not only that, the young lady was intending to return soon, after all, entrance exams were on the horizon. And having made her choice to follow her future in academia she had no intention of deviating from the path when she was so close to her goal.

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Tsuruko was puzzled.

The reason for her puzzlement was the 'in' tray at her desk, the desk from which she ran the day-to-day business of the school, her centre of operations when not taking classes/meeting elders/providing hospitality.

More specifically it was the emptiness of the tray.

Not even during the snowstorms five years ago, when the world was bathed in white and post had been suspended for almost a week, had the tray been empty. There was always, _always_ something requiring attention, from the important to the trivial.

Now, not a trace.

The first time Tsuruko had entered her office, three days after becoming a mother, she had been secretly delighted that the real world had apparently ceased to exist. Not wishing to look a gift horse in the mouth, she had simply shrugged her shoulders and gone back to her husband. However, over the following fortnight delight had turned to uncertainty, and then to puzzlement with more than a hint of suspicion.

She could guess what was going on, and also who was behind it. What was annoying the head of the Shinmei-Ryu was the fact she was being bypassed so completely.

_She _was head of the school. So it was _her_ responsibility.

The sound of knocking disturbed Tsuruko from her thoughts, and she looked up to see the face of her sister peeking through the door at her.

"Ah, there you are Oneesan. Mother is about to serve tea, I was wondering if you would care to join us?"

The thought of a cup of tea was an enticing one, but the chance to try and corner her sister proved even more enticing.

"In a moment Imoutochan. I was wondering if I could ask you something?" Gesturing to the chair opposite hers, Tsuruko almost smiled as Motoko took it without question, placing her hands primly into her lap.

"What is the matter Oneesan?"

"I would like to know what you have been doing with my letters." To Tsuruko's surprise, her sister didn't even flinch at what almost amounted to an accusation. To her even greater surprise, she didn't attempt to deny it either.

"They are addressed to the school, Oneesan. As someone who is still a member of the school, I feel that I am quite capable of fulfilling at least some of the requests." Was Motoko's composed answer, one that caught Tsuruko flat-footed.

"Motoko-san, as I am head of the school it is my business to know all of the business which passes through the school. I do not appreciate being bypassed in such a manner." She eventually ground out, feeling as if the earth was shifting beneath her feet and not enjoying the sensation.

"They were merely bills and applications. Nothing that requires a great deal of experience to sort out." Motoko replied smoothly.

"Even so, if there anything were to happen it is my – "

"Why do you not trust me, Oneesan?" Motoko asked quietly, stopping Tsuruko dead in her tracks.

"What?"

"I asked for the reasons behind your lack of trust in me." The younger woman answered, placing solemn olive eyes upon her sister. "It is clear you do not feel I am able to perform simple duties without your supervision, and I wish to know why."

"I did not say that I don't trust you……"

"Well it certainly seems like it." Motoko snapped, silencing her older sister in a heartbeat. "Why else would you feel the need to bear witness to all of my actions?"

"……." Tsuruko, for possibly the first time in her life, found herself completely outwitted. There was little the raven-haired woman could do but sit and accept defeat as her sister hammered the point home like nails into a coffin.

"…….which by extension means you don't trust our mother either, or your husband, or even great-great-aunt Cologne, and I wouldn't like to be the one who has to tell her….." Motoko wasn't someone who normally ranted, but now that she was getting into the rhythm she was beginning to enjoy it. Hence a slight feeling of disappointment when her sister held up a submissive hand, a slight smile on her face.

"Yes yes, I get the message loud and clear Imoutochan." Letting her hand drop back to her lap, Tsuruko sighed gently. "What I fail to see is why you had to go to these lengths in order to make your point."

"Oneesan, if we had offered our assistance, could you honestly say you would have accepted it?" Not allowing the denial to be voiced, Motoko pushed on. "Given the fact that many times in the past you have been offered the same assistance by the same people, but each and every time politely but firmly declined?"

"......." Again, Tsuruko had to marvel at how easily she'd fallen into such a simple trap. "I still feel that you could have simply asked me." She eventually conceded, relaxing back and folding her arms across her now shrunken stomach.

Motoko gave her sister a long, slow look that she had almost definitely learnt from Tsuruko herself.

"And you would have listened, of course." Whether the look was borrowed or not, Motoko's dry tone was pure Tsuruko. "Like you did every other time, correct? Come on Oneesan, I remember our journey here. I recall you pledging your very life to the school, motherhood be damned." Sensing her sister about to protest, Motoko raised her voice. "You have chained yourself to the school as a martyr to her cause, and are willing to live and die by that code. Why? You are not alone, you never have been……yet you insist on carrying the burden of many on your own shoulders……" Slipping into silence, the younger sister studied the older, who seemed to have aged ten years within the passing of one sentence.

"……Yes. You are right Imoutochan, of course……" Tsuruko drew in a long breath and then exhaled, cradling her chin with her hands. "I do not know why I chose to ignore those who stand at my side, those who I trust with my life……But you must understand the school is mine, and any misfortune which befalls it befalls me also."

"You're wrong."

Tsuruko's head jolted up. "Wrong, Motoko-san?"

"The school is not only yours, Oneesan. It is _ours_. Yours, mother's, our grandmothers……Mine. We all are a part of the school and as such we can all share the joy of achievement, all bear the burden of disappointment. You are the leader, yes, but only a foolish leader would consider herself the entirety of what she leads."

Silence followed, Tsuruko digesting the words of her sister while Motoko wondered where on earth she'd gained the nerve to shout down someone she was petrified of.

"I must be slipping in my old age." The elder sister eventually mused, eyes gazing into the middle distance. "I haven't been so thoroughly chastised, browbeaten and generally told off since about the age of seven, when I finally stopped we…...uhm, never mind." Coughing gently, Tsuruko fought off a touch of colour in her cheeks before focussing on the slightly nervous form sat opposite. "Anyway, I must apologise for doubting you Imoutochan. It seems that I have allowed stiff-necked pride to cloud my judgement. Tell me, would you allow this old dog to learn a few new tricks?" She finished, wry grin firmly in place. Motoko reached out and took the hand proffered towards her, laughing quietly.

"I would hardly class you as old, Oneesan."

"Sometimes I feel every day of my thirty years." Tsuruko tightened her grip slightly as Motoko attempted to retract her hand, pinning her sister with a steady gaze. "However, despite my advancing years, I do believe I heard a little something in your speech a few moments ago. Something about the school also being yours?" One eyebrow arched, Tsuruko could feel delight bubbling beneath the surface as her sister looked down at her lap demurely, a half-smile undisguised.

"Well…..I feel it would be a waste to turn my back completely on the work of a lifetime. I only wish to study the passive parts of the art, taking up arms once again would go against my belief. But seeing my new niece, and thinking of her potential…..and how much I could pass onto her and others in the future……"

"Yes. There is no reason that the art and a profession cannot co-exist, so long as you are dedicated. Who knows, maybe in the future you may wish to play some part in tutoring students of the art, or even open your own arm of the school in Tokyo." Seeing Motoko's eyes glint with an intent she thought long forgotten, Tsuruko almost glowed with pleasure.

"It is indeed something to consider. However, what I must re-iterate is that I will not practice or teach any of the offensive arts." The elder woman found herself nodding in agreement, content.

"That is your choice to make. Now –" Standing, Tsuruko inclined her head towards the door. " – I believe there is a cup of tea waiting for us, correct? It would be a shame to let it go cold."

"Correct." Slipping out of her chair, Motoko strode across to the door and slid it open. "After you."

"I'm not so old that you need open doors for me, Imoutochan." Sharing a smile with her sister, Motoko followed her out of the door.

"Well, I don't know, I'm sure I heard something creak as you got up and I don't think it was the chair." Tsuruko glared at the younger girl, hand reaching of the hilt of her katana.

"Take care, Imoutochan, else you'll be reminded just how fast the creaky bones you speak of can move……"

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Mitsune wasn't sure how long it had been since she'd knocked the door of her one-time best friend, but it had been a long time. There was something odd about finding Naru behind a door not numbered '305' – which reminded the fox the time lapsed since her last visit was even more than she'd imagined.

She also wished she was visiting for a different reason.

Her knuckles rapped on wood, and after a few seconds the door slid open silently to reveal the slightly red face of Naru Narusegawa.

"Mornin' Naru-chan." Her friend peered at her through thick glasses, apparently surprised.

"Yeah, it is isn't it….." Apparently drifting off into thought, the girl took a few seconds to realise that she was leaving Mitsune stood like an unwanted interloper in the middle of the passageway. "Well, come on in."

Mitsune took the offer and did so, casting her eyes around for somewhere to sit before realising that the only option available was the floor. Not something the Fox was above using by any means, but given the fact her host remained standing so did she. The host in question had crossed the bare room and positioned herself against the railing, apparently absorbed in the view and paying little attention to her guest.

"You know, I've never grown tired of looking out of the window. Although I did prefer my old one." The honey-haired girl said, turning her face up to soak in the sunshine raining down from an almost cloudless sky.

"Yeah. Always was fond of it meself." Mitsune replied, joining Naru. "Mine ain't that different, an' I spent a fair chunk ah time in three-oh-five over the years. Back when ah could chill with ah glass in my hand an' not feel death breathin' down my neck." The pair regarded the cityscape sprawling before them with silent appreciation, before the silver-blonde turned to her friend. "Y'know, I'm sorry I ain't been ta see ya much. I dunno where time's been goin', seems like we were snowed in jus' the other day, and now it's March…..."

"Yeah….." Fidgeting for a second, Naru glanced up at the taller woman. "What have you been up to, Kitsune-chan? Kei-kun says you've been pretty reclusive."

"Ah, at first it was just kinda moochin' from day ta day, wonderin' when it would all seem worth it again. But last few weeks, well, seems life experience gets the ol' creative juices goin'." Seeing the look of surprise coming her way, Mitsune chuckled. "Yep, put the pen back to the ol' paper. It's not quite a biography, but let's say ya might recognise a couple ah characters, an' maybe a few ah their worst habits too." The silver fox rested against the balcony edge, letting her chin sit on her crossed forearms. "Never woulda guessed goin' to hell an' back via every dark alley could turn out ta be useful. All the same, seems lotsa people are keen on the manuscript as it is, reckon a few weeks ah polish and fleshin' out should see me good for a book deal. If that ain't irony, don't know what is."

"That's great! I always told you you could do it Kitsune-chan, just with a little focus and effort." Naru said, clearly delighted.

"Nothin' like a near-death experience to do that." Came the arid reply.

"Ah, come on. You should be a little happier than that. What's the matter?" Giving Naru a long, slow look, Mitsune sniffed slowly.

"Well, one ah still could murder a drink. Dunno if that goes away tomorrow or ever. Sure hope it does. Two - " Pausing, the slim woman straightened up and looked her friend in the eye. "- two is that between the alcohol an' the writin', ah've let the last of mah time with mah first an' best friend slip by unnoticed."

Naru's face instantly reddened, the girl dropping her honey eyes to her hands.

"Come on Kitsune-chan, it's no big……"

"Dont'cha dare. Dont'cha even pretend that it's not a big deal, Naru-chan." Mitsune ordered, her own grey eyes already damp. "We're sisters in all but name, an' ah've spent the best days of mah life with ya. Ah can't believe ah didn't even realise it……an' in a few minutes ya'll be gone. Gone, Naru! End of an era an' all that. And ah came so close to lettin' ya get in that battered ol' white van without sayin' a word……" The fox-girl grasped her friend's hands with one of her own, the other tremulously brushing her face dry.

"Mitsune please, I don't need to hear it." Naru's feeble plea met deaf ears.

"Tough. I'm gonna make ya, 'cause ah'm damned if ah'm not gonna say this now." Mitsune croaked, drawing a deep breath and grasping the hands in her possession even tighter. "Ah'm gonna miss ya Naru. Miss ya so much. Mah best friend, mah sister……girl, ah know mah own li'l world has had me tied in knots, but just in case ya weren't sure……ah love ya, Naru. This place'll never be quite the same, it'll lose a piece of its soul today, we all will……."

As Mitsune's voice dissipated into nothingness, the sound of quiet sniffling suggested that even though the words were rambling and fractious, they'd hit home hard.

"D-dammit Mitsune, I promised myself I wouldn't cry today." Naru choked.

"Ah c'mon Naru. Who ya tryin' to kid?" Her friend laughed wetly, pulling the shorter girl towards her. "Ah know how much it kills me that yer goin', so don't pretend it hurts ya any less."

The sound of soft weeping floating on the spring air suggested Naru was taking her advice.

"I think I needed that." She eventually muttered, leaning back with a grimace.

"Sure ya did." Taking a half-pace back, Mitsune regarded her friend with a feline grin. "Good. Now we got the red eyes, which is what ya _should_ have when ya leave home. Now, where ya put that smile ya were wearin' a few minutes ago?"

"Ah, come off it Kitsune-chan." The student chuckled, feeling the aforementioned smile sitting much more comfortably on her face.

"There it is!" Cooing like an adoring mother, Mitsune had to dodge as a finger aimed for a sensitive point on her waist missed by millimetres. "Okay, okay! Enough messing, I reckon we'd best be down before they send the scouts out for us."

"Yeah." Taking a final glance at the panorama of sky, nature and humanity, Naru closed her eyes and exhaled slowly before pushing herself away from the railing. As she slipped inside, a slim figure appeared in her doorway, dressed in simple white robes.

"I have been despatched to convey the message: 'Come along, I haven't got all day'. Perhaps Seta is advising that you should join him sooner rather than later?"

"Yes yes, I get it Motoko-san."

"I imagined you would." With the hint of a smile, the young lady slipped into the room and hefted the remaining bags with languid ease. "I do believe he had about half a cigarette left, and did not wish to open another packet at this juncture. Personally, I would advise you to take as long as you desire. Farewells are best paced by the one saying goodbye after all."

"It's okay, I'll be right down."

"As you wish Naru-san." Motoko eased through the open doorway with suitcase in hand, followed by Naru and Mitsune. Out of instinct the honey-eyed girl allowed her gaze to fix at a spot somewhere between her impromptu porter's shoulder blades, all the better not to look at what she was walking past.

Half a lifetime of memories.

It might have been a few seconds or a few hours, but it almost caught Naru by surprise when she emerged into the main room-stroke-lobby, Motoko carefully setting the bulging fabric case at the feet of a tall man, one with barely a smouldering dog-end still clinging to his lips. Seta threw a brief 'thanks' to the young Aoyama before eyeing up the girl who'd suddenly lost her source of distraction, and wasn't sure where to look to find the next one.

"Hey."

"……" Naru cast about for an alternative to looking at anyone, but sensing her place upon the stage and beneath the spotlights, gave up.

"Hey." She weakly replied, sensing movement out of the corner of her eye.

It provided her with little warning.

"Heyas Naru!" In truth, there was nothing that was adequate warning for a full-body Molmolian glomp.

"Su-chan…."

"When ya come ta visit, bring me some bananas, y'hear me?" The girl pleaded, moist emerald eyes giving her friend the full treatment. Naru never stood a chance.

"You've got it Su." Every hint of a tear evaporated so quickly Naru was unsure they were ever there.

"Yay!" Pressing an unashamed smooch onto her friends cheek, Su grinned slyly. "Now, I heard ya! You promised to come visit, and I don't wanna wait too long for my bananas!" Pointing an index finger, the young princess gently prodded Naru in the cheek in emphasis. "If I have ta wait too long, I might come get ya!"

"Now now Su-chan, blackmail is unbecoming of you." Sighing as the spring-loaded figure grinned and leapt away towards the sofa, Motoko smiled easily at the shell-shocked figure stood in the middle of the room. "Although may I say I cannot disagree with the sentiment. Don't be a stranger, Naru-san."

"Well, after making that kind of promise I don't have any choice do I?" Returning the smile, the student felt it disappear as her normally reserved friend paced over and pulled her into a hug of her own. The brief flash of shock at the unaccustomed action felt glorious in comparison to the wave grief following upon its heels, which destroyed Naru's reed-like defiance effortlessly.

It wasn't until a long few minutes later that Naru was able to release Motoko, and move on to the next well-wisher. Sara, who thankfully wasn't one for long goodbyes. All the preteen required was a promise that she would have the opportunity to 'crash at her pad' (whatever that meant) once in a while. Giving her approval, the girl aligned her sight on the pair now stood beside her.

It was still hard to do.

"Kei-san, Mutsumi-san….." The couple in question nodded slightly uncomfortably, aware that without them the scene playing probably wouldn't be happening. In truth, the awkwardness had already begun to set in when Mutsumi broke it.

"I'm sorry."

Quietly spoken words rang like a gong, smashing the crystallising silence.

"I-I'm sorry too." Naru found herself saying, and meaning it.

"Naru-san……" Keitaro trailed off, a look that couldn't be described in his hazel eyes. Somehow, Naru understood it perfectly.

"I know, Kei-kun. I know."

"Ara. So, when shall we expect a house-warming?" Mutsumi enquired brightly, a hint of sadness still balanced on the edge of her voice.

"I'll let you know." Naru knew it was a pledge she would keep. Seeing the farewell committee had said their respective pieces the girl stepped back, letting her honey eyes wander around the familiar setting once more.

She almost missed the figure three-quarters hidden by the kitchen door.

Honey met violet, and a very brief staring match took place before Shinobu wordlessly inclined her head. Letting out a sigh she didn't know she was holding Naru finished her survey, chest suddenly a little lighter. It was all she could have asked for from Shinobu, in truth.

"Need a hand?" Seta offered, bag already in his left hand and keys in the right. Not trusting her voice, Naru simply nodded. With a smile the man turned and headed through the entrance, Naru hot on his heels and the others filtering out behind her.

"So. On your way then?" Haruka's dry voice, accompanied by a stream of cigarette smoke, greeted them as they poured out to the top of the steps.

"Yeah……"

"I see." Staring at the younger woman evenly, Haruka withdrew the tobacco stick from between her lips and threw it to the floor, stubbing it with more force than it perhaps deserved. "I suppose I should wish you the best. In that case, all the best, Naru-san."

Everyone present heard the catch in her voice, but made no mention of it.

"Thank you, Haruka-san." Bowing to the hostess, Naru slipped past her before stopping atop the first step and turning, tilting her head back to take in the Hinata-sou one final time. Letting her eyes drift across the familiar sight, the girl let them mist as she sketched the sight to memory. Eventually they fell on the small gaggle stood before the house, and Naru let allowed them to overflow.

"Goodbye……" With a tearful smile and wave, the girl descended the steps, Seta at her side.

The group stood outside the Hinata-sou watched the disappearing back mutely, until she disappeared from view. Then, the spell holding them in place seemed to break.

"Bye Naru-chan….." Su warbled, latching thankfully onto Motoko and proceeding to bawl her head off.

"Now now, Su-chan. We will be seeing her again sometime soon."

"I don't know what to say. Talk about the end of an era……" Mutsumi breathed, still looking into the distance as if waiting for someone to appear.

"Yeah." Placing an arm around his beloved, Keitaro glanced up at Motoko. "I think a cup of tea is in order."

"I'll go put the kettle on." Shinobu called from the doorway, before vanishing back inside to do just that. Slowly, Motoko followed her, half-carrying the still distraught Su along with her.

"…..I can't help wishing things hadn't turned out like this." Mutsumi murmured, relaxing into Keitaro's grip and placing her head against his shoulder.

"Well, I don't know. It wasn't what I'd planned on, but I know one thing -" Leaning down and kissing the Okinawan on top of her head, the Kanrinin continued in barely a whisper. "- I wouldn't want it any other way. I'll take a forever with you in a heartbeat if you'll let me."

"Ara." Eyes gleaming, Mutsumi allowed a soft sigh to escape her lips. "Careful what you say, Kei. I might start being creative with my interpretations."

"Who says you're being creative?" Shaking his head, Keitaro gazed at Mutsumi with a heartfelt smile. "I've given up putting my foot in my mouth, because I'm sick of repercussions. To be honest, I think we all are."

"Ah……" Blinking bashfully up at the man beside her, the beautiful Okinawan broke into a smile of her own, trying her level best to fight off a fainting spell. "Can I assume you mean what I thought you mean?"

"Yeah."

"Kei......" Head spinning and feet light, Mutsumi felt ready to pass out on the spot.

"Afraid I'm too short on money to buy something shiny and do it properly....." Keitaro muttered, scuffing his shoe-clad foot on the floor.

"Ara, I can wait." With a blinding smile, Mutsumi hooked her arms around his shoulders. "So, shall we go and have that tea?"

"Sounds good." Holding onto one another tightly, Keitaro and Mutsumi stumbled back towards the still open door. The pair entered together, and with a minimum of ceremony, slid the door shut behind them.

Then, from within, came a thud only heard when an Okinawan lost her battle with consciousness, followed by another thud as a young man lost his battle to keep them both upright. Then came the sound of laughter, along with someone sniggering 'pervert' under their breath.

Some things just don't change, after all.

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Well, that's that!

'Til next time.............?

Nodoka Miyazawa.


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